


A Dwarf in The Shire

by theebombdiggity



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable Bofur, Bag End, Bofur is a Sweetheart, Cute, Dinner Party, Dwarves in the Shire, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Past Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Rivendell | Imladris, Shy Bofur, Sweet Bofur, The Shire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-07-24 03:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7491735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theebombdiggity/pseuds/theebombdiggity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins returns from Erebor to try to resume the lifestyle he once had, though he misses his Dwarven companions. He writes to them inviting them to visit, and when they show up, one who comforted Bilbo time and time again on their journey asked to stay for a bit longer.</p><p>--- is time passing<br/>~~~ is a flashback</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Expected Reunion

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. This particular hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, had partaken in a very unexpected adventure, and did not return to his comfortable life for thirteen months. When he did return, he was not the same, nor was his hole in the ground, as he learned. He walked up to his house to see his belongings being auctioned off, but after proving he was the one who lived there, everything was returned with little fuss, aside from the fuss that came from the Sackville-Bagginses upon his return.  
The auctioneer had read the contract Bilbo provided as identification then looked at Bilbo as he walked up the steps to Bag End, “Who is this person you pledged your service to? Thorin Oakenshield?” he asked him. Bilbo froze then turned around to face him, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, as he tried to keep his eyes from watering. The funeral and the journey home from Erebor had not been enough time for him to grieve for the loss of Kili and Fili, and for Thorin, three of the dwarves he had grown to care so much about.  
“He… He was my friend,” was all Bilbo said. Then he faced Bag End again and turned the gold knob in the middle of the green door, which still had the mark Gandalf carved onto it over a year prior.  
–--  
Once Bilbo had gotten his furniture and other belongings in order, he decided to put the important papers in frames, the map to Erebor, the contract he signed. Keepsakes to hang on the wall, or leave on his desk. He stood up from his desk in the study and put his hands in his pockets, this had become a habit of his ever since he found the golden ring in the Goblin Tunnels, though this time, he was more drawn to the acorn he had found in Beorn’s garden.  
_“Plant your trees, watch them grow.”_ he remembered Thorin saying before he died. He took the advice given to him, and brought the acorn as well as a spade out to his garden. Once he had found the perfect spot around the back of Bag End, he planted it.  
He sat in front of the buried acorn, imagining what it would look like when it was grown.  
“It will be strong, formidable, admired by all the other trees” he thought, “Just like the dwarf who told me to plant it.”  
As he thought that, the pain in his chest returned. He missed the dwarves already, the friends he made and fought beside. He thought that he could leave it all behind, return to The Shire without thoughts of the Lonely Mountain seeping into his mind, but deep down he knew he couldn’t. Gandalf had taken him home along the same path they took to Erebor, and that didn’t help Bilbo’s attempts keep it together.  
~~~  
The two had taken horses, well Gandalf took a horse, Bilbo had a pony, for their journey back. They never stayed on the road for long, and they had many friends now to stay with for the nights. Beorn had returned to his cabin around the same time as Gandalf and Bilbo had arrived. He allowed them to sleep there for the night, and provided breakfast for them in the morning. They avoided the Goblin Tunnels, Gandalf figured the goblins wouldn’t be as welcoming as Beorn, though Bilbo remembered another threat that lurked in the caves.  
Eventually the two made it to Rivendell, and as usual, Elrond had been very welcoming. He did his best to hide his worry over the return of Sauron when he greeted his friends.  
“Welcome Gandalf, Master Baggins,” he said to him as they walked to the courtyard.  
“Nice to see you again, Lord Elrond,” Bilbo said with a small bow. Gandalf nodded to Elrond as well, though it hadn’t been as long since he had seen him last.  
“You, as well,” he smiled, then turned to Gandalf, “Will the two of you be staying long? You’re welcome to if need be.”  
“Not for more than a night, unfortunately,” Gandalf informed him then looked to Bilbo, “There is a hobbit that is longing to get back to The Shire.”  
“Yes, an incredibly brave hobbit, so I hear.” Elrond’s smile was replaced with a sympathetic look for Bilbo, “I am deeply sorry to hear of the loss of Thorin and his nephews.”  
Bilbo nodded, not wanting to say anything on the topic.  
Just like the first night the company had spent there, Elrond and the elves of Rivendell had provided a feast and music for their guests, as well as a soft bed, and warm wash basins, Bilbo took advantage of both, first washing off the remainder of the battle, then sprawling onto the bed.  
–--  
The following morning, Bilbo and Gandalf had said their goodbyes and continued on their way. They made it to the stone trolls, where Bilbo and the Company nearly got eaten, and where Bilbo got his trusted sword, Sting.  
Before long, the two had made it back to the edge of The Shire, and Gandalf had taken his leave of Bilbo.  
~~~  
Bilbo was inside his house now, sitting in his armchair and drinking a cup of tea. It was nearing four o’clock, and he remembered the invitation he extended to the dwarves. He imagined that they too were busy rebuilding their lives and honouring the dead, but he couldn’t help but expect them to show up at anytime. It had only been days since the battle, but Bilbo took to his writing desk. Sliding a blank page of parchment toward him and dipping his quill in the ink, he decided to write them a letter. He was unsure who to address it to, he would have it addressed to Thorin if he could, but since that wasn’t possible, he settled with:

_Company,_

_Hello! I am writing to you to inform you that I have returned to Bag End in tact. Gandalf went on his way after reaching the outskirts of The Shire._  
_I do hope that you are all settling back into Erebor quite nicely, and working on rebuilding your lives and your walls. As I returned to Bag End, all of my things were being auctioned off! It seems in my absence, they had all believed I was dead. My neighbours hardly recognized me._ Bilbo laughed to himself, then continued.  
_I await the day where I can see you all again, should you decide to come back to Bag End. I have fully restocked my pantry, and have begun gardening for the Autumn harvest._  
_Perhaps when you get this message, you will write back. I hope to hear from you all soon._

_– B.B._

Bilbo sent for a messenger whom he paid to deliver the message to Erebor, truly hoping it would arrive, and that he would hear back from at least one of the dwarves. Of course he knew it would take long for the letter to get to Erebor, a dwarf to reply, and for that letter to come back, but he was willing to wait.  
–--  
Waiting was what he did. A lot of it, actually. The summer was ending, it was the beginning of September and you could feel it in the air. Many of Bilbo’s crops were ready for harvesting, and the acorn in the backyard had become a small sprout, which Bilbo still sat beside at least once a week, talking to it and hoping it would survive the winter.  
He was tending to the garden around half past three when a messenger came by Bag End.  
“Priority letter for Bilbo Baggins,” he called out. Bilbo stood up and wiped the dirt off his hands to meet the messenger at the gate.  
“Thank you very much!” Bilbo exclaimed, then took the letter inside to read.  
He pulled the wax seal apart and unfolded the parchment. 

_Master Baggins_

_It is lovely to hear from you, we are all glad to know you made it home safe and sound. We are also relieved that Gandalf made the journey back with you, if you see him again, send our regards, and we’ll do the same if we see him first._  
_We are settling back in quite nicely, it is very nice to be home once again._  
_Amazing they didn’t recognize you, or perhaps they’d hope you wouldn’t return so they could make off with your mother’s dishes and your crocheted doilies._  
_It will likely be past Summer by the time you get this letter, and we are delighted to know of the Autumn harvest and your restocked pantry._  
_You should know we plan to arrive at Bag End for the fourth of September, it has been too long since we’ve seen our burglar._

_See you for tea!  
Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, Nori, Dori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. _

Bilbo looked at the ten unique signatures at the bottom and smiled, then frowned at the realization that there would only be ten signatures, never more. Then he recalled that they said they’d be arriving on the fourth for afternoon tea.  
“Why, that’s today!” Bilbo said in an expression that was as equally worried as it was excited.  
He ran to the kitchen and put the kettle on and stack eleven plates on the table, then decided to add a twelfth in case Gandalf joined their party.  
Just as he did that, he heard the front door open. He practically flew to the front hallway to greet who opened it, and there he saw line of dwarves waiting to get into Bag End.  
The first was a dwarf with tattoos on his head, and a look that used to terrify Bilbo,  
“Dwalin!” He rejoiced.  
Dwalin nodded and held Bilbo’s shoulders, “Great to see you, Master Baggins.”  
He made his way inside, and hung his robe on the coat hooks by the door then an older dwarf, Balin, came to the door. Bilbo greeted him as well, and he joined Dwalin inside.  
Bilbo almost expected the next two to be Fili and Kili as that’s how it was when they first came to Bag End, but instead Oin and Gloin walked up to the door.  
Soon enough, all ten dwarves were in Bilbo’s dining room, sitting around the table with tea and cakes, which would soon be replaced with a feast for dinner.  
Bilbo smiled at the robes hung next to him, there were few times where he had been glad to see dwarves, and even fewer times he was glad to have dwarves in his house, and before long he joined them in the dining room.  
Sitting on the table was a green box, and all the dwarves looked at Bilbo smiling.  
“What’s this?” Bilbo asked, addressing the box.  
“It’s a gift!” Ori said smiling.  
“A gift? What for? It’s not my birthday for a few weeks.” Bilbo attempted to protest.  
“Go on and open it, lad,” Bofur instructed him.  
Bilbo walked up to it, and put his hand on the lid, then took it away (he did this a few times). Eventually, curiosity mixed with the dwarves shouting “open it!” and he obliged.  
Inside the box, there were 14 small wooden statues. Bilbo picked the smallest of them up, it was carved to resemble himself.  
“Is this me?” Bilbo inquired.  
Bifur nodded, “Aye, it is. Bofur and I carved them for ye. It’s a gift from everyone.”  
Bilbo flinched at first when Bifur spoke, he had been so used to hearing the dwarf speak in Khuzdul, but then he looked at the two toymakers then back at the box. He recognized all of them as they were now, instead of as wooden statues. He set the one of him back in the box and took out that which he recognized as Thorin. He stared at it, and his smile turned into one laced with sadness. Bilbo was the only one there with a sad look on his face, the dwarves had been able to grieve properly, and accept that Thorin, Kili, and Fili had been honoured, and died as warriors, and focus on the happy memories they had with them.  
Thorin’s death still hit Bilbo hard, he couldn’t doubt the love he felt for the dwarf, and this made it harder. Even when Thorin threatened him in his dragon-sick state, and doubted him at the beginning of their journey, Bilbo could never dislike him.  
Bilbo chuckled when he felt his eyes water, “Look at me, getting teary at a happy reunion.”  
The dwarves laughed along with him, and Bilbo put the statue back in the box, “Thank you all, very much.”  
“We’re glad ye like them, Bilbo.” Bofur said with a compassionate smile on his face.  
Just then the door opened again, Bilbo turned around and all the dwarves’ heads turned as well.  
“Hope you haven’t broken out the wine without me,” called out a voice belonging to an older man.  
“Gandalf!” Bilbo cheered, “Somehow I knew you’d show up.”  
“We saw him when we were on our way,” Dwalin stated.  
“Yes, I had some business to attend to before I came by though. But I am here, I arrived just when I planned to.” Gandalf snickered and joined the others in the dining room.  
–--  
The dinner feast had begun not too long after Gandalf showed up and it was very similar to the first time Bilbo met the dwarves, only this time he joined in the fun as opposed to protesting it.  
Bilbo’s newly harvested vegetables were a hit with all the dwarves, despite not everyone liking green food. There was enough bread, cheese wheels, eggs, bacon, chicken, sausages, fish, and of course ale and wine to go around to everyone. (Even if a great deal of it was being thrown from opposite sides of the tale)  
Needless to say, Bilbo was upset to see the food on the table start to disappear, he wasn’t upset he’d have to replace it, just upset that his friends would soon be on their way back to the mountain.  
With this in mind, Bilbo stood up at the head of the table opposite and the dwarves looked to him, “I would just like to say now, thank you all for coming. It has been a pleasure seeing you all again. You are all welcome to stay for as long as you want before returning to Erebor, it is no trouble at all.”  
He sat back down and the dwarves and Gandalf smiled at him, then continued to eat.  
“Thank you, laddie, we’ll likely be leaving tomorrow however,” Balin told him.  
Bilbo knew he shouldn’t be disappointed, so he just smiled and nodded at Balin. 

When the food throwing subsided and bellies were full, the dwarves did their part and cleaned up, ignoring Bilbo’s protests saying “You’re the guests, you don’t need to clean,” to any dwarf who would be standing still long enough for Bilbo to rant.  
But once the dishes were done, the twelve of them went to Bilbo’s sitting room and smoked their pipes. They told stories, some were more reminiscing over the past year, and some were new stories.  
“I told my boy about the whole journey,” Gloin told the group, “He loved it, loved the story of the war. Didn’t seem to like the elves very much though. Says he hopes he never has to fight alongside one. True Dwarf, my Gimli.” He had a proud smile behind his beard.  
A lot of the stories were similar, reuniting with friends, families, dwarves from the Lonely Mountain were able to come home. 

Bilbo looked around the sitting room, he smiled to himself. He was glad to be home, but he was thankful he stayed to help these dwarves get their home back.  
“Would you all excuse me for a moment,” Bilbo said as he stood up, “Just going to get some fresh air.”  
He walked outside and looked at his garden. Nothing had been too overgrown when he returned, which he was happy about, less work to do, and now the cold was setting in, there wouldn’t be much to do for his garden until spring. He blew a ring of smoke, then headed toward the back of his house to look at the sprout.  
“Mind if I join you?” He heard a cheerful voice ask from behind him. He turned around, and there was Bofur, smiling at him.  
“Oh, please do.” Bilbo said, and the two walked together. “I planted this when I got home. It’s going to be an oak tree. Found the acorn at Beorn’s.”  
Bofur smiled and nodded as Bilbo spoke, “It’s for Thorin, then? An oak tree.”  
“Yes, I suppose. He reminded me to plant it before he… Well. Anyway, it’s planted now.”  
“It’s okay to miss him, lad. We all know how the two of you felt about each other.” Bofur put his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, and Bilbo turned to look at him.  
“I know, I do miss him. A lot, actually. Though, before I wrote to you all, I was hoping I could just forget about all of this. Turns out it’s hard to forget you dwarves.” Bilbo chuckled.  
Bofur had a sincere kindness in his eyes, “You’re fairly unforgettable too, Master Baggins.” Bilbo had found a lot of comfort in Bofur on their journey to Erebor. No matter what, he always had a smile on his face, even when Bilbo tried to leave and said hurtful things to him, which he regretted of course.  
The two exchanged looks for what seemed to be a long time before Bofur looked away, he walked to the fence and looked toward the other houses, and the scenery in The Shire before looking up at the night sky, “I can see why ye missed this place so much. The Shire really is somethin’, just wish I could see more of it.”  
Bilbo walked up beside him and put his hands on the fence, “Well as I said inside, you’re all welcome to stay for longer. I’d be glad to have the company, if you’d like to stay, that is.”  
Bofur looked at him and smiled, “I’m glad ye mentioned it, y’see, I was going to ask if you’d mind me stayin’ for longer than the rest of ‘em.”  
“Of course I don’t mind. In fact I could even give you a tour of The Shire some time.”  
Bofur put his hand over Bilbo’s, causing his cheeks to redden slightly, “I’d love that. We should probably get back inside for now though,” he said before turning to go in the house. Bilbo smiled toward him, wondering, perhaps too much, if Bofur had meant anything by putting his hand on his, then he joined him and the rest inside.  
–––  
The next morning, Bilbo stood at the gate while the dwarves (aside from Bofur, who stayed near the door to Bag End) left, they each pulled him in for a hug, then mounted their pony and headed down the path that would lead them out of The Shire. The last to leave was Bifur, when it was him at the gate, he hugged Bilbo, then whispered something in his ear that made him look to Bofur. He turned back to Bifur quickly, then smiled as he left to join the other dwarves.  
“What’d my cousin say to ye?” Bofur asked when Bilbo walked back to the door.  
“Oh, he just said something about the statues,” Bilbo simply said then shrugged, “I’m glad I can understand what he says now, must be nice for him to, you know to not have an axe in his head.”  
“What did ‘e say about the statues?”  
“Oh, just that it was only you who made them.” Bilbo smirked and walked inside, followed by Bofur, whose face had become slightly more red.  
Bilbo laughed when he noticed Bofur becoming more flustered as he tried to speak, “Why is it such a big deal for you to have made them?”  
“Well, it’s not a big deal really, we just weren’t sure if you’d be okay with one person puttin’ all this effort into a gift for ye.” Bofur said, hiding his embarrassment.  
“Alright then, well thank you for putting all that effort into a gift for me,” Bilbo smiled and sat down in his favourite armchair.  
Bofur had walked over to a chest near Bilbo’s desk in the study. He saw Sting and the holster laying on top of it, as well as the smaller chest full of his share of the gold which was sitting on some books. He smiled, then continued to wander through Bilbo’s study. On his desk, he found the framed map to Erebor and held it up, to look at it, smiling more. When he went to set it down, he noticed Bilbo’s contract also framed.

“Later this afternoon I could show you The Shire if you’d like,” Bilbo called to him, “I’m sure walking around with a dwarf will certainly help my reputation.” The last part was said sarcastically, ever since he stepped out the door to go on this adventure, his built up reputation as a Baggins had been squandered, but he didn’t mind it as much as he used to, as it meant that he had made better friends than he ever could have at home.  
Bofur called back, “Sounds like a plan. I’m sure yer neighbours won’t be too surprised that a dwarf is here with ye,” he joked.  
He then walked into the sitting room with the framed map, “You’ve said you wanted to forget all about this, but somethin’ tells me ye didn’t really want to.” Bofur was grinning at the hobbit.  
Bilbo smiled back, “No, perhaps you’re right.”

He was happy to have Bofur here with him, and he didn’t know why but he felt like he could have nothing and still be happy as long as this dwarf was here. He was comforting and warm, and always had been. Of course, Bilbo loved Thorin and nothing could ever change that, but he was beginning to wonder if along the way, he began caring for Bofur as well. He figured that only time would tell, and maybe he’d know within the time Bofur was staying with him if these thoughts were merely that of a friend, or something more.


	2. Only One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo shows Bofur some of The Shire, and Bofur explains the braids and the beards to Bilbo, who grows more curious of Dwarvish traditions, and why he hadn't been told before.

Truth be told, Bofur had begun to care for the hobbit early on in their journey to reclaim the mountain. There was something about him, whether it was his stories about The Shire and the people who lived there, how he could talk for hours on end about the importance of cutlery, or even just the way Bilbo could always make Bofur laugh no matter what. Whichever it may be, Bofur knew that Bilbo Baggins was the Only One for him. 

Bilbo, on the other hand, had grown a fondness for the Dwarven prince who led their journey. This, Bofur knew, was the downside to dwarves loving only one person until the end of their days, especially when that One isn't even a dwarf. Naturally the toymaker stepped aside so Bilbo could be with the future king. When they reached the mountain, however, Bofur and the rest of the dwarves knew that Thorin placed one thing above the burglar, and that was gold. The dragon sickness had changed Thorin, and he could not see it the way everyone else could. The way he treated Bilbo when he tried to help him irked Bofur, and when Bilbo had given the Arkenstone to Thranduil, Bofur nor the other dwarves could stand to see Thorin try to throw him out of Erebor. But when Thorin died, Bofur would not disrespect him, he could not be happy, and he could not try to court Bilbo. He would do anything to see Bilbo smile after seeing the pain on his face, but when Bilbo denied his offer of walking with him at least to Rivendell, he knew he wouldn’t have the chance.   
He had begun whittling these statues out of wood, after they had begun to restore Erebor, he began carving the hobbit into the wooden block, and then began Thorin, and so on until he had all fourteen of them. He included the smallest of details like the dwarves' braids and beads, and Bilbo's waistcoat buttons. He decided then to show the rest of the company, and they had all suggested to given the figurines to Bilbo himself when next they saw him.   
So when the messenger from The Shire arrived, they wasted no time in writing their response and making the preparations to see their hobbit companion.  
\---  
"I'm glad we are going for a walk today, I will need to go to the market, fill my pantry yet again after last night’s dinner" Bilbo chuckled as he told Bofur, walking from the kitchen deprived of food, "Shall we go now?"  
Bofur was in the sitting room now, "Sure, if you'd like," he told him with a smile. 

The two made their way down the hill, hobbits who were outside in their yards, whether they were working on their gardens or simply sitting and relaxing, looked at Bilbo and Bofur as they passed. They would whisper things within earshot of them, uncaring if they heard, and Bofur's dimpled smile turned into more of an uncomfortable one.   
"Don't worry about them, they'd be whispering nonsense even if it were just me."  
"Hobbits are quick to judge, eh?" Bofur asked him.  
"Most of them, yes. It's one thing that they don't think I'm very Tookish so my leaving to go for an adventure was completely not respectable. But it's another thing that there is a dwarf at my side. You'll be the talk of The Shire for... at most a week before they move on. If you stay that long anyway." Bilbo looked to him, as if to ask how long he was staying.  
"I'd like to stay for a week or more, if ye don't mind of course." Bofur smiled at him.  
"You can stay as long as you'd like." Bilbo nodded then looked back to the path.  
He was happy that Bofur was staying with him, perhaps happier than he thought he'd be, though he didn't know why. He was his friend, it was okay to be happy to see him, Bilbo thought, right?  
"Y'know, the beds you've got in the spare rooms are certainly comfortable, I can see why ye missed them when ye were gone," Bofur told him.   
Bilbo chuckled, "Yes they are. Though the first night I was back they seemed too soft. I could hardly sleep. The next night I even took my bedroll out and slept on the floor. It was too quiet, as well. I suppose after a while I found hearing the company snore last night to be a comfort, when others may find it inconvenient."   
Bofur looked at him, he wondered if he meant to say he missed the road, or that he was lonely but disguised it in the comforts of home. He didn't want to ask, in case he was wrong, but he couldn't smile at the thought that Bilbo might have been lonely. 

When they had finished getting what they needed at the market, they went back up the hill to bring the food Bilbo purchased to Bag End before Bilbo showed Bofur the rest of The Shire.   
They’d taken the paths around Hobbiton and crossed the Bywater Bridge, and passed the Green Dragon Inn.  
“That’s a popular place for us hobbits,” Bilbo pointed out, “the only brew for the brave and true comes from the Green Dragon.”   
Bofur looked at it and smiled, “I remember passin’ this, seems bustlin’ at night.”  
“Oh it is, we’ll have to go while you’re here.” Bilbo concluded, then they continued their walk.   
They had made it to Brandywine River, Bofur taking in all the sights he could. Everything was so different from Dwarven lands, but he felt right at home. Perhaps because of the hobbit next to him.   
“Can I ask ye somethin’?” Bofur said to him when they had stopped to sit down. Bilbo nodded and he continued, “Why is it so strange to the other hobbits for different kinds of folks to be here?”   
Bilbo thought about his answer before saying it, “Well, I guess they just aren’t used to seeing non-hobbits. We rarely get any other people here, men hardly enter our borders, elves only come by if they’re headed to the Grey Havens, and the only time dwarves are here is when they’re coming to or from the Blue Mountains,” he explained.  
“Well, I knew about the dwarves. I’m from the Blue Mountains, y’know, that’s how we met the rest of the Company. I wouldn’t doubt that’s where Bifur and Bombur ended up going, instead of back to Erebor.”  
“Oh, really?” Bilbo asked, then looked at him, “May I ask why you wanted to stay here? Need more time away from the wife and family?” The last part was a shot in the dark, despite all their time spent together, Bilbo didn’t know much about Bofur’s personal life, for all he knew he could have a wife and dwarflings waiting for him at home. Though, he didn’t know why he hoped that wasn’t the case.   
Bofur smiled despite having a more serious tone, “Haven’t got one, Bifur and Bombur are my family, and of course my sister-in-law, and all the little nieces and nephews. I never found my One at home, not to mention dwarf lads and lasses are more interested in those with better looking beards.” He chuckled at the last part, but Bilbo had a confused look.  
“Your One?” Bilbo realized how many questions he was asking, but he was interested in dwarven traditions and customs, and was sure Bofur didn’t mind.  
“Dwarves only love one person once, and when they find their One, they do everythin’ they can to keep them happy, granted their One loves them as well. Though it’s a bit of a tricky thing, sometimes they love someone else. However, if they can court them, they’ll eventually marry them.”  
Bilbo nodded to the explanation, “And you never found yours?”  
“Not at home, no. Shortly after leavin’ I think I did, though.” Bofur smirked and glanced at Bilbo through the corner of his eye, Bilbo nodded though he didn’t seem to catch what Bofur said, or didn’t want to mention it, however Bofur could swear he saw a pinkish tint on Bilbo’s face.  
Bilbo was in fact blushing, not entirely out of embarrassment, but also with frustration. He had many thoughts going through his mind, one of these being: did Bofur mean him? Or was that just what he wanted to think? The other being: Was he Thorin’s? It was selfish of him to think of himself being two dwarves’ true love at once, but the curiosity set in. Before he could say anything, Bofur broke the short silence.  
“I’m sorry we never visited sooner, Bilbo.” He looked over at him with somewhat of a somber look, as if he were trying his best to smile despite feeling sad.   
“There’s nothing to apologize for, I can assure you.” Bilbo smiled, he meant what he said.   
Bofur nodded, “I know, I suppose I just can’t help but feel badly. Someone should have been here with ye.” He stood up and pulled Bilbo up with him, then pulled the hobbit into his arms.   
Bilbo stood there, unsure of what to do, eventually he wrapped his arms around the dwarf’s waist. He breathed in the faint smell of pipeweed mixed with the earthy scents that clung to Bofur’s coat, and couldn’t help but smile when he felt Bofur's face rest on top of his head.  
“Should we head back?” Bilbo asked after breaking from the hug, “it's getting close to lunch.”   
“Sure thing. I forgot about your meal times. I'm surprised Bombur doesn't have a smial here, I think he'd fit in well.” Bofur laughed at his joke made at the expense of his brother.

Their walk back to Bag End was relatively quiet, whenever a hobbit would stare Bofur, he would grin and nod at them. Usually they’d get flustered that he knew they were staring at him and they’d turn away, causing both him and Bilbo to laugh. There was a few times where the two would look at each other, Bofur smiled when this happened, but Bilbo blushed and looked at his feet. He wanted to start a conversation, but he was happy with the silence as well.  
Only when they got back inside did Bilbo ask one of the many questions that was on his mind, “Why is it essential for dwarves to have beards? If I may ask.”  
The question caught Bofur off guard, he’d never had to really answer that question before.   
“What do ye mean? For courtin’ and such?” He asked Bilbo in response, then continued when Bilbo nodded, “Well, it’s just somethin’ we like. Beards and braids are important when it comes to askin’ to court another dwarf. When it comes to beards, as it worked in my family, Bombur was the one of the two of us to get married.”   
“And braids?” Bilbo asked as he looked at Bofur’s braided pigtails.   
“When dwarves braid each others’ hair, it’s an ordeal. Sort of letting everyone know they’re with someone else. Some dwarves always wear beads at the end of their braids, but there are special ones for this sort of thing.”  
Bilbo walked into the pantry to get something for the two of them to eat, still letting all of this new information sink in. There were so many traditions that he had no idea about, he had never braided Thorin’s hair, nor did Thorin braid his. He frowned when the thought of Thorin being ashamed of him tugged at his mind.  
Bofur peeked into the doorway, “Can I help with anythin’?” he asked after he noticed Bilbo was just standing in the pantry, lost in thought.  
Bilbo blinked, coming back to the present, and looked at Bofur, “No, no it’s quite alright,” he assured him as he took something off the shelf and brought it to the table. 

The two of them sat opposite each other after Bilbo served lunch, and Bofur spent a great deal of time trying to read Bilbo’s face.  
“Alright there, lad?” He asked with evident concern.  
Bilbo looked up from his plate, “I’m just thinking about what I talked about I suppose.” He said after a pause.  
Bofur smiled at him, “Ye sure asked a lot of questions, I’m beginnin’ to think Thorin didn’t even try courtin’ you.”  
“I don’t think he had time to, with the journey and all,” Bilbo said with a low voice.  
Bofur had a surprised look on his face, and after a pause he finally said, “Well I’m sure he was plannin’ to.”  
They ate the rest of their lunch mostly in silence, and Bilbo cleared the table. He washed the dishes and put them away, then called to Bofur, “Let’s go to the Green Dragon this evening,” he suggested.  
Bofur, still sitting at the table agreed, then headed to the bathroom to freshen up.   
In his absence, Bilbo made his way to the study to look at his bookshelves. He was sure he had taken a book from Erebor that could help him understand this culture better, but when he was unable to find it, he remembered the books that his chest of gold was sitting on. He walked over, and sure enough he found the book he was looking for from the dwarvish library, which luckily had a Westron translation.   
The index lead him to a section about courting traditions, and everything Bofur had told him was true, which begged the question of why did Thorin not tell him any of this even more. Perhaps Bofur was right, Bilbo figured, he had to have been planning to. After everything was sorted out. Bilbo decided to give the dwarf he once loved the benefit of the doubt as he read on.   
He got to a passage about a dwarf’s One Love, and skimmed it, mumbling the text to himself, “A dwarf only loves once in their life, even if the dwarf he or she loves is committed to another. If this is the case, and something is to happen to the taken dwarf’s One, the lone dwarf will respect the dwarf’s privacy, but remain a friend to the grieving dwarf.”   
This was what Bofur had told him earlier, so there was no point in searching further for the answer to what he was feeling, everything was so different than the hobbitish customs he was used to.   
He figured he would wait this out to see what happened. He wasn’t sure if Bofur did care for him, and he wasn’t even sure what his own heart wanted. The death of Thorin still pulled on his heartstrings, but he had begun to cheer up after seeing the rest of the company the previous night, and thought that with Bofur to keep him company, he would spend more of his time in a cheerful state of mind, rather than in mourning. He was grateful for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed a confused Bilbo and a somewhat helpful Bofur! Leave comments if you'd like :D  
> Next chapter will be pretty fluffy.


	3. Inn of the Green Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were fun times to be had at the Inn of the Green Dragon, and even a little bit of drunken fluff... Until the next day when Bilbo draws the wrong conclusions.
> 
> Bit of a warning: There is alcohol/drunkenness/hangovers(kinda) in this chapter!

When Bofur had finished his bath, he got dressed and decided to leave his hair unbraided, which didn’t go unnoticed by Bilbo. It was only the second time he had seen the dwarf without his usual hairstyle, after all, the first being after the escape from Mirkwood. By the time Bofur had returned, Bilbo was setting up for afternoon tea, so Bofur decided to look around the study. He noticed a dwarvish book lying open on the desk that hadn’t been there before, and picked it up to look at the contents. He smiled to himself when he read the dwarvish word for ‘Courting’ at the top of the page, part of him figured Bilbo just wanted to make sense of what he had learned today, but another part wanted to believe that Bilbo had considered that Bofur may try to court him. He sighed when he recalled the talk he had with Bombur before the ten dwarves set out for Hobbiton.  
~~~  
“Ye have to give him more time, Bofur. He’s not going to forget about Thorin so easily,” Bombur tried persuading Bofur. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy his brother found his One, he was just worried that he would get hurt.  
“I’m not askin’ him to forget about Thorin. I’m not even going to tell him that he’s my One. Not right away, anyway.” Bofur told him with a dimpled smile on his face despite the conversation  
“What if he doesn’t let you stay with him?”  
“Then I’ll go back to the Blue Mountains with you, and visit him every now and again. Look, Bombur, I know I’m not Thorin, and I know I could never be good enough for Bilbo, but I do love him. Ever since he left everythin’ behind to come with us on this journey, he’s been the one my heart wants. I only want him to be happy. I know that you know I just can’t let this go.”  
“I know that, and I’m not tryin’ to convince you to back out of this, all I’m sayin’ is that he may not want to be with anyone else.”  
Bofur sighed, he wasn’t confident that Bilbo would return his feelings, but he knew he had to be a friend to him. Then he looked to the box on a nearby table, a box filled with fourteen wooden figures, and he felt hopeful.  
That is until his cousin entered the room, “Why don’t ye say that was from all of us, made by you and me,” Bifur suggested as he walked up to the two of them.  
Bofur nodded, “That’d be best.”  
He picked up the box and met up with the rest of the company at the gates of Erebor.  
~~~  
He set the book back down as it was when Bilbo told him afternoon tea was ready.

In the evening, the two made their way back toward Bywater to visit The Green Dragon as they planned. Bofur had been uncharacteristically silent and straight-faced due to being slightly nervous to be surrounded by so many hobbits who had probably spent a lot of their day talking about him.

“That’s a good look for you, your hair down,” Bilbo said quietly after noticing the silence on their walk, “Forgot to mention earlier.”  
“Why, thank ye, lad.” Bofur said, regaining his usual smile. 

When they arrived The Green Dragon, hobbits stared at them from all sides of the pub, Bofur’s unease returned.  
“Why don’t you sing them that song you sang in Rivendell,” Bofur suggested as they sat at a table for two, “hobbits love a good drinking song.”  
“Y’know that’s not such a bad idea. I’ll think about it,” Bofur agreed.  
Soon a waitress arrived with a tankard in each hand, “Here you go, Mister Bilbo, and one for your friend,” she smiled as she put the cups down on the table. The two of them returned the smile.  
“Thanks, love” Bofur told her, and she nodded and walked back to the counter still smiling.  
Bilbo had taken a drink from his cup, but Bofur eyed it with a definite look of confusion.  
“What’s this supposed to be, then?” He held the cup up, studying it.  
“A half a pint. It’s hobbit-sized.” Bilbo said simply, “May not be a flagon like you’re used to, wouldn’t underestimate it though, it’s the ale inside that counts.”  
“I could drink ten of these and feel as if I’d barely had one,” Bofur told him with confidence.  
Bilbo scoffed into his cup as he took another drink, “you’ll regret saying that when you get there. I’d bet you’ll be the first of us to become inebriated.”  
“Oh really? And what’s yer wager?”  
“When I win, you’ll be the one to make meals tomorrow. All seven of them” Bilbo smirked, he was confident that he could have the day off from cooking the next day, but through making wagers, he found himself being reminded of his wager with Gollum in the Goblin Tunnels. He instinctively put his hand in his waistcoat pocket, and rolled the ring between his index finger and thumb, then patted his pocket.  
Bofur enjoyed the challenge of a drinking game, he loved ale and gambling as much as any dwarf so to see the two combined was a dream come true. He figured this could be the time for hobbits to warm up to him as well. He didn’t know what the prize should be for when he won, then he thought back to the first night he had ever been to Bag End, and remembered the mince pies he enjoyed so much.  
“Well, I’ll follow suit with meals, when I win, I would like more of those mince pies we had last year. I was upset to see there was none when we arrived yesterday.” Bofur said with mock sadness.  
“You, Mister Bofur, have yourself a deal. I can drink you under the table, dwarf.”  
“Ye’ve always been a confident hobbit, as long as I've known ye, I can tell ye that.” He smirked and drank from his mug. He was surprised by the taste of the ale, it was similar to what Bilbo had as his house, but stronger for sure. He laughed at the thought of Bilbo out-drinking him. 

After they had each downed a few tankards, Bofur decided to teach the hobbits his Man in the Moon. Bilbo sang along, though his speech had begun to slur the tiniest bit, and his cheeks took on a light pink colour. Bofur was right, so far. He hadn't felt like he'd had a full mug yet, even though he wasn't quite at the ten drinks.  
The hobbits who were present loved Bofur's song, they cheered and clapped along as he sang, and he was glad to have finally made a connection with more than just Bilbo.

Bofur had reached his goal of ten mugs of ale, he could feel their effect, but it was nowhere near what he'd faced with dwarvish or man sized tankards. Bilbo on the other hand was only just on his eighth and was in a state where he shouldn't continue.  
"Alright, lad. Let's get ye home," Bofur said after noticing Bilbo had been a little too red in the face before he slouched and put his head on his arms on top of the table. He laughed as he hauled Bilbo up from the stool, his arm went around Bilbo's waist as Bilbo's arm went around Bofur's shoulder, and he lead him out of the inn. 

Overall, he had a pleasant night; the hobbits had grown a new fondness for him due to his love of song and drink, and he was the victor of a challenge he didn't even start.

They were walking up the hill when Bilbo giggled, “Your hair is tickling my face,” he told Bofur with slurred speech.  
“Sorry, lad, maybe I should have braided it before,” Bofur said, he was laughing to himself having never seen Bilbo so drunk before.  
“Y’know, you really ought to let me braid it for you.” Bilbo insisted, this caused Bofur’s smile to fade into a melancholic sort of smile. These were the words he wanted to hear, but they were said in a state of drunkenness and he was unsure of their integrity.  
“If ye remember sayin’ that tomorrow, then we'll see about ye braidin’ it for me.” He told the hobbit in a sad yet stern voice.  
“Absolutely, Mister Bofur!” Bilbo was too carefree to hear the sadness in Bofur's voice, but it would stick with him whether he knew it or not.

Bofur turned the knob on the round green door and brought Bilbo inside. He kicked off his boots and helped Bilbo to his room. He lay the hobbit in his own bed, “Ye’re going to regret that drinkin’ challenge in the mornin’, that's for sure.” He laughed as he turned toward the door, feeling the sudden fatigue that evaded him on their walk home, he was eager to flop onto the bed in one of the guest rooms and let go of all his stresses. But then he felt a soft hand wrap around his calloused hand.  
“Can you stay?” Bilbo's eyes were shut and he was mumbling half into the pillow, but he spoke clear enough for Bofur to hear him.  
“I am stayin’, Bilbo, I'll just be in the next room.”  
“Will you stay in here? With me.” His eyes opened and was fighting to keep them that way.  
“I shouldn't, and besides,” Bofur started, then, in a quieter voice continued, “I'm not the dwarf you want with you. Goodnight, Bilbo.”  
With hesitation, Bofur freed his hand and walked out of Bilbo’s room. He closed the door behind him, and walked to the guest room.  
\---  
Bofur was awake first the next morning, he found that strange, but given the circumstances of the previous night, he figured Bilbo wouldn’t be awake for a while. He ran his fingers through his hair to loosen the tangles, and worked it into three sections to braid. He walked out to the kitchen to put on the kettle, and decided that even though he didn’t have to, he would make breakfast for himself and Bilbo.  
He cracked a few eggs into the pan over the fire next to a couple strips of bacon. He wasn’t a chef like his brother, but he knew the basics. Soon after he had let the food cook, Bilbo walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and wearing the same thing he had been wearing the day before. Bofur had assumed he didn't notice that his hair was braided today, unlike the day before when Bilbo suggested braiding it for him, and if he had noticed, he didn't feel the need to mention it.  
“Ye look terrible,” Bofur stated when he saw him.  
“I feel terrible.” Bilbo yawned and looked at what Bofur was making, “You’re cooking, does that mean I won?”  
Bofur laughed, “Sorry, Bilbo. Not this time. If ye could see yerself, ye’d know I won.”  
Bilbo sighed, “I guess I need to make you a pie then.”  
“That can wait, first it’s breakfast.”  
Bilbo sat down at the dining room table and Bofur sat a cup of tea in front of him, then served breakfast.  
“I’m glad ye’re up, I have somethin’ to ask.”  
Bilbo looked at him after taking a drink from his teacup. He raised an eyebrow at his more serious tone.  
“Do ye remember anythin’ from yesterday, aside from the bet? Ye said some things and I want to know…”  
Bilbo paused a long while, he didn’t remember saying anything to Bofur, but immediately felt as if he offended him. He had no proof either way, and he didn’t want to ask him to clarify what he’d told him.  
“Oh, goodness, yes. Please, disregard everything I said to you last night. I didn’t mean any of it.” Bilbo figured this was a sentence that would save him for any unintended offense. Of course, he was wrong, he had no idea the affect of what he told the dwarf.  
“Right. That’s what I thought, glad we cleared it up though.” Bofur smiled, and had Bilbo been in the right mindset, he would have seen that this smile was the same sad one he gave when he had told him he was going back to Rivendell, but seeing as how he had been in an ill state of grogginess and fatigue, he only saw that Bofur was smiling.  
Bofur stood up from the table, “Ye know, I’m going to go for a walk around, before I eat. Don’t bother cleanin’ up my plate, I won’t be gone long,” he then walked over and put his boots on at the door, then left Bag End before Bilbo could protest.  
Bilbo sat at the table, looking in the direction of the front hallway. Without thinking, he took his ring out of his pocket to talk to it, voice his concerns as if he had someone in the room with it.  
“I must have said something that really offended him. I wish I could figure out what it was.” He looked at the golden ring in his hand, and stroked it gently with his index finger, but then put it back in his pocket to resume eating.  
  
Bilbo had no idea what Bofur felt for him, and Bofur knew he was right to doubt the integrity of what Bilbo said on their walk home. After all, why would a hobbit wish to braid a dwarf’s hair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this! I wanted this chapter to be fluffy, I didn't mean for it to end on a more angsty note, but I changed my mind about how this should go so many times xD  
> Also I like the idea that Bilbo would be really cuddly when drunk, and Bofur just gets sad. Hoping for more fluff soon! (Though it'll probably be after a bit of sad)


	4. A Tale of Two Dwarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo discusses his feelings for Thorin, while Bofur learns about Hobbiton events. He later tells Bilbo a story that is very close to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I am so sorry for the delay in this, school and work have been crazy. Hopefully everything will start to slow down soon so I can update more frequently. Anyways, enjoy!

It was mid-afternoon and Bofur still hadn't returned from his walk. Bilbo had decided after lunch to tend to his garden, and more importantly, sit by his new sprout. He had time to recall his thoughts from the previous night, there were blurry memories that seemed to only surface after he thought he had offended Bofur. The clearest thought was himself asking to braid the dwarf's hair, and this made him feel even more guilty.  
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," said the exasperated hobbit to the oak tree sprout. "This should have been easier, you shouldn't have died." He sat next to the sprout and could feel his eyes begin to water. "I feel as though I am wronging you, Thorin. As if by having feelings for Bofur I am hurting you but that's impossible." Bilbo wiped a tear from his eye and continued.  
"Every time I look at that Mithril vest, I can't help but think of how it could have saved you. You wouldn't be dead, you'd still be the King Under the Mountain."  
Bilbo thought of the silver steel vest sitting in the chest in his study. He was right, Thorin would have been safer had he kept it. Nothing would have been able to harm Bilbo so long as he had his magic ring. He held that very object up to look at, he wondered how something such as a golden ring could be so entrancing. He didn't fully understand the power it held over him, as far as Bilbo knew, it made him invisible and that was all. He knew there had to have been some sort of enchantment or something ensnaring him after facing the baby spider in Mirkwood, all he felt was an intense jealousy and anger until the ring was safe in his hand.  
He quickly put it back in his pocket and looked back to the oak sprout.  
"But where would that leave us? I'd return to Bag End and you'd still be in Erebor." He then thought about Bofur, and about all the traditions of Dwarven courting that he had never heard of before.  
"Why is it that you didn't tell me anything about braiding and all the Dwarven customs? Why did I hear it first from Bofur and not you? Was I your One, Thorin? Because I loved you, I still do, and I'd hope you felt the same about me." The hobbit sighed, wiping more tears from his face. "What if I love both of you?"  
–--  
Bofur spent most of the day by the Brandywine River, though he also visited Party Tree out of curiosity.  
“Can I help you, sir?” He was asked by a hobbit tending to the field.  
“Oh no, thank you, I was just wonderin’ what this place is for.” Bofur looked around the Party Field.  
“This is the Party Tree, stands tall right in the middle of our Party Field, we have all sorts of parties and gatherings here, we Shirefolk love a social gathering, they happen more than not, actually,” he paused and got a good look at Bofur, “Say, you’re the dwarf who taught us that nice song at the Green Dragon last night, aren’t you?”  
Bofur grinned and nodded, “Yes sir, that’d be me.”  
“We all loved it. Now that I think of it, the day after next, we’ll be having an evening feast because it’s Highday, we’d love if you joined us, I’m sure Mr. Bilbo will tell you all about it,”  
Bofur nodded, “We should be there, thanks for lettin’ me know!” He turned and began to walk back to Bag End.  
When he walked into Bilbo’s smial, he noticed his plate from breakfast sitting on the table still, untouched.  
“Bilbo?” He called out, when no one answered he went outside and to the garden he knew Bilbo to spend a lot of time at.

“I just can't shake the feeling that I've offended him. You know best, I have an unlucky habit of offending dwarves.” Bilbo told the sprout very matter-of-factly.  
“Talkin’ to yourself are you?” Bofur asked him with a chuckle.  
“You're back!” Bilbo almost shouted with relief, then his expression became concerned, “How long have you been standing there?”  
“Just got back,” Bofur told him in a reassuring tone after seeing his expression.  
“I thought something I did ran you off.”  
“Can't get rid of me that easy, lad.” Bofur smirked then sat next to the hobbit, “Have you been out here this whole time?”  
Bilbo shook his head, “only since lunch. I come out here to talk to Th– the oak sprout.”  
“You hobbits are strange folk aren't you? Talkin’ to plants and all.” Bofur laughed even though he knew what this sprout meant to Bilbo, and seeing the hobbit cling to any memory of Thorin he could made him sad, especially since he could see the pain that Thorin had caused Bilbo.  
Bilbo looked at the dwarf next to him, “Mr. Bofur, this may seem out of the blue, but I can't help but feel that I offended you, and if I did I would like to formally apologize.”  
After a pause, Bofur said, “Ye didn't offend me, lad. I can promise you that. I might’ve overreacted a wee bit earlier.”  
Bilbo decided to believe him and dropped the topic. Instead of continuing, he stood up and stretched before looking down to Bofur, “You hungry? I believe I owe you a mince pie.”  
“Absolutely, I haven’t forgotten.” Bofur stood up and the two walked back into Bag End.

The two had sat down and waited for the mince pie to bake,  
“I spoke to someone out in the Party Field today, he said that on Highdays there are feasts?” Bofur asked  
“Oh that’s right. Must’ve slipped my mind. Highday is the end of our week, so people like to come together and have a meal. Did you want to go?”  
“He said they all liked my song then he invited us. So if it’s a pretty big deal, I’d like to see it, if that’s alright with you.”  
“Well, to be honest, I’ve been avoiding it all Summer, so it’s about time that I go.”  
With that, it was decided that the day after next, the two would mingle with the hobbits again, and Bofur it would be a fun event. He had also decided while on his walk, that it was time to tell Bilbo how he felt, and thought of the perfect way to do so: through story. Though once the pie was ready, he knew it would have to wait until after their dinner was done.  
\---  
“Hey, Bilbo,” Bofur peeked into Bilbo’s study where the hobbit was sitting in his armchair reading. "I know you spend a lot of time readin' you're stories, but can I tell you one?" Bofur asked after Bilbo had looked up from his book at him.  
"Sure, I wouldn't mind a story."  
Bofur walked toward him and sat on another chair.  
"This is a story about two people, two dwarves I should say. These two dwarves were almost completely opposite in terms of class, appearance, and personality, but they did have one thing in common, their One." Bofur began, he knew Bilbo would guess where this story came from, so he decided to fabricate.  
"Our mum told Bombur and me this story as wee lads. Anyway, as I told you, in Dwarven culture, every dwarf has their One. That's how Aulë created us, but the tricky part was their One didn't follow the traditional Dwarven culture, so they both felt their love was unrequited. Now one of these dwarves was very handsome. He had the charisma of royalty but the strength of a miner. He knew how to lead, though he could be stubborn."  
Bilbo laughed, "Sounds sort of like Thorin."  
Bofur paused, "Yeah I guess you're right. Anyway, the other dwarf, he wasn't very smart, but he was charming in his own way. Fan of a song and drink as much as any other dwarf, not a leader, but he was reliable and sturdy. A miner, he was."  
Bilbo nodded, "and the third dwarf?"  
"The third was different. More interested in staying inside, but this one was brave and smart. A true friend, kind and caring. Dependable. And both dwarves knew that this was the one they wanted to be with. So they both attempted to get noticed. The first dwarf was callous due to pride, while the second was more approachable and kind. However once the first dwarf opened up, his One seemed to return their feelings so the second backed off."  
"Doesn't seem very fair, what happened with the second?" Bilbo had now set his book down and was invested in this story.  
"Well things started to turn sour. See, though these two were close now, the first dwarf made no attempt to court the third, but since the third didn't believe it all it didn't seem odd. But after awhile, the first dwarf became even more cold and proud. He had put his One in danger instead of protecting them, and had treated his One so poorly. These two were never given the chance to make amends. The second dwarf saw how much pain the third was in, and wanted to help but couldn't find a way to. All this time he wanted to show his One how much he cared and loved them but couldn't find the words, and when he had the opportunity, he felt it would be inappropriate, he thought perhaps it'd be better if he never said a word." Bofur had a sad look on his face as he drew his story to a close.  
"That can't be the end," Bilbo protested, "no one sees any happiness, how can that be the end of your story?"  
"Well perhaps it's not the end," Bofur suggested.  
Bilbo thought on that statement, then began finding similarities to things he has experienced. He began thinking about the story he was told, and with the similarities in mind he came to a conclusion,  
"You never called the third a dwarf. The story doesn't have an ending because your mother never told it to you at all! It's about... Thorin is the first dwarf, you're the second so... I'm the third character, is that right? I-is it about us, Bofur?"  
Bofur could only nod. His feelings for Bilbo were now out in the open, and he didn’t know what to say, then all of a sudden words just started pouring out of his mouth.  
“I-I’m sorry I could only tell you like this, I didn’t know how else. Of course I understand if you don’t feel the same way with Thorin and all, I just felt you deserved to know. You are a dear friend to me, and I wouldn’t want to lose that, but during the journey, and everything I just knew. I supported you and Thorin together, as long as you were happy, but when I saw how he treated you in Erebor it made me so angry –”  
“Bofur,” Bilbo interrupted him, “It’s okay, I’m glad you told me. You’re a dear friend to me, too, so allow me to think things over, if that’s okay.”  
“Of course, Bilbo. Sorry to put this on you now. Thanks for understandin’”  
Bofur left the room, smiling. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders, and went to the smoking room, glad to finally tell his One how he felt.


	5. A Bit of Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a sleepless night, Bilbo decides to calm himself down with a cup of tea, however he encounters an unexpected guest in his house and has a talk with them instead.

Sleep did not come easy for Bilbo that night, he was awake in bed thinking about everything that Bofur had said to him in his “story”. He decided that if he was going to lay awake, he may as well have a late night cup of tea, so he donned his housecoat and snuck into the kitchen and poured water into the kettle to hang over the fire.  
As he was waiting for the water to come to a boil, he looked out of the window in his study and noticed a thin golden line appearing over the horizon, it was later into the morning than he thought it was.  
He went back to the kitchen and sat down, readying his mug and he heard a sound. It wasn't the whistle from the kettle, it was something almost eerie. He listened intently and finally could make out a word.  
“ _Bilbo?_ ” he heard it say. His pulse began to race and he became uneasy, but decided it must have just been his tired mind playing a trick.  
“ _Bilbo, do you not hear me?_ ”  
“No, I am not listening, I do not hear anything,” Bilbo responded very adamantly. The kettle began to whistle and he got up to pour the water into his teapot. Then there was a thud from the other room, as if something had fallen.  
Bilbo reasoned with himself, he could go and investigate, he faced a dragon and lived to tell about it so what is a little bump in the night? Or, he could just pass it off as his imagination and wait for his tea to steep.  
He tapped the pocket of his housecoat and felt the small circular object he had grown attached to, and figured he’d do the former, knowing he’d be safe no matter what was there.  
But when he walked into the other room, he saw nothing out of place. He chuckled at his own fear, but something on the floor in front of the fireplace caught his attention. It was the small wooden figure shaped like the former King Under the Mountain.  
“Now how did this get here?” Bilbo thought to himself.  
“ _Do you understand now?_ ” the voice said again, this time sounding as if it were right behind him.  
“Thorin?” Bilbo turned around, not expecting what he’d find, and saw nothing out of the ordinary, “Where… Where are you?”  
“ _I'm here Bilbo, I've always been here, with you, since Erebor. In the place you go to the most to seek refuge or let your emotions show._ ”  
“My garden?” He thought it over and decided it did make sense, he planted the acorn in his garden to remind him of the people who made it and those who didn't. He tucked the figure into his pocket and went out to his garden after deciding against waiting until he had his tea, and he saw a faint smoke surrounding the sprout.  
“ _Can you see now?_ ” the voice of Thorin asked him.  
Though he was shaken, Bilbo nodded,  
“But why are you only telling me this now? That acorn was planted in June. I… I really needed you Thorin.”  
The smoke had moved from the sprout and was more in front of Bilbo now.  
_“I know Master Baggins, and I am sorry. There is much I never told you, and much I need to tell you now. However, I just wish I could embrace you once more, Bilbo_.”  
If Bilbo had thought that the tears he had for Thorin had vanished, he was sorely mistaken now.  
“You shouldn't have given me that Mythril armour, you would have lived. You'd still be King Under the Mountain and you would be well.”  
“ _If I had not, there's no telling what would have happened to you. If you hadn't survived and I was able to take the throne, no amount of gold, wine, or praise would have brought me joy_.”  
Bilbo looked down, knowing he couldn't argue, and Thorin continued,  
“ _Because I am no longer among the living, you could make another dwarf happy, if you so choose. Bofur is a fine dwarf and he cares for you very much._ ”  
“He told me I was his one. Was I yours, Thorin?”  
“ _I believe you were, Master Baggins. It is something I should have told you over and over again, but I was waiting until after the battle. A time that would have felt right, a time where I wouldn't have been consumed by dragon sickness, but only one of us made it. And I do truly apologize for almost having you thrown from the ramparts._ ”  
“Well I apologize for stealing the Arkenstone.” Bilbo tried to make a joke to distract his tears from betraying him.  
“ _As I told you, you did what only a true friend would have done. But if I may ask, how did you get it to Dale without me knowing?_ ”  
Bilbo looked at the cloud of smoke then looked at the housecoat pocket that the ring was in. He sighed, then decided that it was unlikely for Thorin to tell anyone.  
“In the Goblin Tunnels I found a ring, a creature was desperate to find it but it found its way onto my finger, and I wasn’t able to be seen again. I used the ring to get the keys in Mirkwood, and to run from Smaug. So I used it when I came back from Dale, and later when I warned you at Ravenhill. A lot of my luck is actually thanks to this.” He pulled the ring out of the pocket and held it up toward Thorin.  
“ _Show me_ ,” Thorin requested, and Bilbo put the ring on his middle finger.  
He became invisible, but he also learned that this ring had an ability he never knew about when he looked up at what was just a cloud of smoke but now was a fully recognizable ghostly form of Thorin Oakenshield.  
“ _I can still see you_ ” Thorin informed him, to which Bilbo grinned and replied,  
“Yes, but I can see you as well!”  
He hadn't worn the ring since Ravenhill and had he known this was an ability, he would have worn it more often.  
Thorin looked surprised, but then grinned back at the former burglar. He reached out and found that he could hold Bilbo’s hand in his own, and Bilbo looked down at their hands when he did so, and intertwined their fingers.  
“Perhaps this isn't the time to say so, but I was thinking, you mentioned Bofur and I would like to say that I do care for him as well, very much so. But I care for you too, and I feel as though I am wronging both of you.”  
“ _Yes, I did hear that. I hear everything you say when you're feeling down and seek company from your oak sprout. If I'm being honest, I believe it would work out perfectly if he was to court you. I am dead, Bilbo, as much as I love you, nothing can change that and you’d be wasting away if you dwell on the past_.”  
Thorin took his hand away and placed both of his hands on Bilbo's shoulders, pulling him toward him. Thorin’s eyes, still the piercing blue they've always been even in death, met Bilbo's. Neither of them spoke in this moment that seemed to last an eternity. Without a second thought, Bilbo closed the distance between them with a tight hug. Thorin held him against his chest, and rested his chin atop Bilbo's head. It would have seemed as if they were both hugging air, but they felt the closeness that they needed from each other.  
“What do I do? I told Bofur that I needed time, and he respected that. I can't just say that I had a talk with you and I decided to let him court me,” Bilbo said with confusion present in his tone.  
“ _Just tell him when the time feels right, just don't wait too long and regret it like I did,_ ” There was a pause and then Thorin continued, “ _If he loves you as much as I do, any time spent with you will be an honour, as friends or as each other's love._ ”  
Bilbo sighed, “I can't seem to believe that, but I suppose I'll have to take your word for it. It's just hard moving on, I loved you Thorin, despite everything that happened in Erebor. Even if we got off on the wrong foot when we started the journey, I loved you.”  
“ _I have Bofur, and strangely enough Goblins, to thank for making you stay with our company._ ”  
Bilbo smiled thinking about the start of their journey, before dragons, and gold. Before broken promises to Men, and sickness. Nothing was by any account easy, but Bilbo certainly never regretted leaving his house that day over a year ago.  
“He thought I would be leaving for good before the battle of Erebor. I think he tried to convince me to go. I wouldn't have left during a time like that though, and I am glad I didn't.” Bilbo stated with utmost certainty.  
“ _I'm sure he just wanted to keep you safe. If you are his One, he'll make sure that you're always happy and safe, even if it means that he is neither. It's how Dwarves are._ ”  
Bilbo nodded, he knew this from his book and Bofur’s explanation, but decided not to ask Thorin why it was never explained to him sooner.  
“What do I do if he still does want to court when I am ready?”  
“ _Well, you tell him._ ” Thorin felt strange giving his One advice on how to begin a relationship with another dwarf, but it was as his explanation went; he wanted Bilbo to be happy and knew he couldn't make him happy himself. He continued, “ _Offer to braid his hair. We have courtship beads, that a dwarves One will put at the end of their braid, as I'm sure you know. It is that simple._ ”  
Thorin looked behind Bilbo where he could see the sky became lighter as the sun had began to rise. He didn't want his time with Bilbo to end, but knew it had to eventually, and he sighed.  
“ _You should get some rest, you need it._ ”  
“But I want to talk with you more,” Bilbo protested after he looked up.  
“ _I will be here whenever you need me. But for now, rest. Okay?_ ” he placed his forehead gently against Bilbo’s and Bilbo nodded and returned the gesture. He took the ring off and Thorin was just a cloud of smoke once more.  
He sighed, “Goodbye for now, Thorin. Do me a favour, if you see Kili and Fili wherever you are, please send them my regards and tell them I'm sorry I didn't get to Ravenhill sooner.”  
Thorin replied, “ _Of course, but you have nothing to apologize for, I swear._ ” Then he followed Bilbo as he walked back inside his smial.  
He returned to his room and fell asleep almost as soon as his head fell on the pillow, while the cloud of smoke lingered in the doorway for just a moment until the door to the guest room had opened.  
Bofur peeked into Bilbo's room and smiled, “Poor lad, I'll let him rest.” he thought aloud. If anyone had been able to see, Thorin was smiling at Bofur’s comment. He knew this was the right dwarf for Bilbo.  
\---  
Bilbo awoke with a smile on his face a few hours later, having thought he had the most wonderful albeit melancholic dream. That is, until he noticed that not only was his bathrobe still on, but in the pocket opposite the ring was the figure of Thorin that he remembered falling over in his supposed dream.  
He realized it wasn't a dream after all, and smiled brighter knowing that Thorin was with him wherever he went.  
Bilbo walked out of his room and found Bofur in the kitchen making a pot of tea.  
“So you're finally awake? This teapot was full, but it was cold so I figured I'd make more. Care for a glass?” Bofur asked him.  
Bilbo chuckled and accepted, then sat at the table. “Bofur, I'd like to thank you for telling me how you felt. I'm glad you were open with me, even if I seemed shocked.”  
“It's not a problem, Bilbo. A great weight off my shoulders actually, also I've been meaning to ask, unrelated to that. I was thinking, since tomorrow is Highday and we'll be havin’ dinner with other hobbits, perhaps I should look the part.”  
“You’d like to wear hobbit clothes?” Bilbo asked, his tone was a mix of surprise and delight.  
“If that's alright.” Bofur replied sheepishly.  
“Of course it is, in fact I may have something of old Bullroarer Took’s that might fit you. We can figure it out after lunch, okay?”  
“Sounds perfect.”

The two sat in the dining room waiting for the kettle to whistle, Bilbo had been thinking about what Thorin told him, and decided after the Highday festivities, he would tell Bofur his feelings. He was glad that his talk with Thorin hadn't been a dream, he does greatly miss him. But now, he feels as if that was a bit of closure and he was finally ready to begin another chapter in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you think!   
> I kept checking with a friend to make sure that the Thorin parts made sense, haha.


	6. Highday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur attends his first Hobbit festival and isn't sure what to expect.  
> Bilbo plans to discuss matters of importance with him, but isn't sure how to do it.

The end of the week had approached, it was now Highday, and Highday meant festivities. Bofur still wasn’t fully sure why hobbits celebrated the end of a week, but he wasn’t about to deny a feast. Bilbo’s assumption that some old Took clothes would fit Bofur ended up correct, and for some reason seeing Bofur walk out of the guest room in hobbit clothes just looked right to Bilbo. Aside from the beard, height, and the completely unhobbitish feet, he could probably fit in well in Hobbiton. It was his suggestion, but Bofur didn’t care if he fit in or not, as Bilbo had said what seemed like a century prior, they’re used to not belonging anywhere. (Of course, it wasn’t what Bilbo had meant to say). Bofur was happy to be with someone he cared about, and glad to have his feelings known if not realized. 

Bilbo, took a seat in his armchair, he had a book in his hand but his mind was too full to read it. Though it had only been a day, was wrestling with himself over if he should tell Bofur about his chat with Thorin, something he would have been certain was a dream had it not been for the wooden statue of the Dwarven king. He figured he would upset Bofur if he had told him about this paranormal event, while Thorin was completely accepting of Bilbo’s conflicted feelings, he didn’t know if Bofur would take his indecision as well.  
There were many differences between hobbits and dwarves, one of these being the idea of courtship. Dwarves were very serious about it, after all a dwarf could only fall in love once. Hobbits on the other hand were generally more open, they typically would have larger families with family businesses and deeds to pass on. The only thing Bilbo is a writer and an only child. The only thing he has to pass on is Bag End, and with no children that leaves the heir to be another Baggins (as long as it wasn’t a Sackville-Baggins).  
But Thorin was right, Bilbo could move on. Thorin was dead and nothing would bring him back, Bilbo couldn’t dwell on the past or what could have happened.  
He chuckled to himself, “I’m acting like such a tween.” he told himself outloud. Bofur peeked into the study from the hallway, “You say something?”  
Bilbo looked up at him, “No, nothing.” he smiled.  
\---  
“Bofur,” Bilbo started as they walked toward the Party Tree, “Perhaps this is a morbid question, but what beliefs do dwarves have about death?”  
“Oh, yes that is a dark question.” Bofur chuckled, “Well, to dwarves it is always honourable, and everyone treats it as such. When they die, we believe Mahal will gather their spirits and bring them back to the Halls of Waiting where their fate is determined. It is said that the seven dwarven fathers were ‘reborn’, or that Durin’s folk could be, though no one really knows if that’s true or not.”  
Bilbo nodded slowly at the information he was given. “Why d’you ask?” Bofur looked at him with curiosity.  
“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.” Bilbo laughed quietly, but then sighed.  
“I saw… well, I may have dreamed it but I could swear I have reason to believe it was real. I think I talked to Thorin. Just the night before last, I couldn’t sleep so I went and put on a pot of tea, and he… well a smoky figure with his voice began talking to me.” He looked down, but glanced at Bofur out of the corner of his eye.  
He saw a small smile appear behind his mustache, “Explains why your kettle was full. It could be entirely possible that you saw him, or felt his presence rather. Did you speak with him?”  
Bofur’s tone was serious, but still had the usual lightness behind it. Bilbo was slightly reassured that he wasn’t confused or dreaming.  
“We spoke outside. He said he had always been there, since I planted the acorn. We talked about a lot of things that had to be said.” Bilbo said slowly, careful not to reveal too much.  
“Then perhaps it is true then, that the line of Durin are ‘reborn’. Thorin just came back in the form of an oak tree, pretty fitting if you ask me.” Bofur chuckled.  
He looked down at Bilbo when he didn’t reply, and his smile went away, “You sure that’s everything that’s on your mind?”  
Bilbo sighed, “Truthfully, no,” he admitted.  
Bofur had a calming smile on his face, “What else is troublin’ you?”  
“Well I suppose there’s a lot. I’ve been thinking a lot about the story you told me, and I told Thorin about it. Seeing him gave me a fair bit of closure, what the funeral couldn’t, anyway. But I still obviously have feelings for him that I can’t let go of so easily. But hobbits are different from dwarves, there isn’t always one person for each of us in a lifetime, we tend to be more accepting to change and all.” Bilbo took a deep breath, and Bofur laughed at his rambling.  
“What I mean to say is that I also have feelings for you. I don’t want you to think I’m just being indecisive, or that I am using these feelings to get over Thorin’s loss. I don’t fully know what’s true, I only know what I know. But he gave me advice to move on so I thought I might try.” Bilbo concluded his speech a bit harshly, otherwise he might have gone on more, but before Bofur could reply they had arrived at the Party Field.  
“Bofur! Mr. Baggins! Welcome!” a hobbit cheered as they walked through the banners.  
Bilbo nodded and Bofur grinned in reply. Bilbo was a little displeased that he wouldn’t hear a reply anytime soon, but he didn’t want it to dampen his night.  
“Bilbo Baggins! Have to admit, shocked to see you here!” another hobbit called out as he walked over.  
“Adalgrim Took,” Bilbo said in reply to his cousin, “I wasn’t expecting to be here, after being gone for a year.”  
“Well it’s great to have you back,” he said then nodded to Bofur before going back to the kegs.  
Bilbo looked at Bofur, “My first cousin on my father’s side, and my second cousin on my mother’s side.”  
Bofur nodded as if he understood, then he realized how confusing it really was.  
Walking through the field, Bilbo noticed that he was getting different looks from people, a few of his closer friends and relations would smile, though some others would scowl at him or avoid eye contact all together. He wasn’t sure if it were for the unexpected journey he went on as well as having to take the furniture back they had bought from his house, or if were for the dwarf that had come to stay. He figured it was the former, as every time he looked at Bofur there was a new crowd of hobbits gathered around him, trying to hear his stories. Suddenly he felt a tug on his jacket and turned around to find a few hobbitlings staring wide-eyed at him.  
“Mr. Bilbo, sir? Could you tell us a story please?” one of them asked quietly.  
Bilbo chuckled and nodded, then thought of a story he could tell them, and they all walked toward the tree “Come on, sit down. Can’t hear a good story standing up, now can we?”  
The young hobbits sat down in front of him and he began telling them the story of the trolls he met on their journey.  
“There I was, at the mercy of monstrous trolls! And they were all arguing amongst themselves about how they were going to cook us. They spent so much time arguing the wither-tos and why-fors, that the sun’s first light cracked over the top of the trees and poof!”  
He paused as the hobbits looked on expectedly.  
“It turned them all into stone.”  
In the time he was telling them the story, Bofur had walked over and stood at the side of the tree, “You forgot to mention the part where some of us were actually _on_ the spit roastin’.” he said with a chuckle, and you telling them we all had parasites.”  
“It may have escaped your notice, Mr. Bofur, but I was trying to save you.”  
The young hobbits giggled as the two of them bickered the semantics.  
“Why don’t you lot run along and play now, go on.” Bilbo told them, and they listened.  
Bilbo got up and brushed himself off, “You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he said to the dwarf.  
Bofur nodded, “Wasn’t sure what to expect, glad we came though. You hobbits sure like your parties.”  
“That we do. I, however, am going to take advantage of the feast. Why don’t you go and mingle, or you’re free to join me.”  
“I do have something I need to take care of, but I will join you as soon as that’s done.”  
Bilbo didn’t question, he just nodded and walked over to the buffet tables.

Bofur on the other hand, sought out the groundskeeper he had met earlier in the week.  
“Nice to see you again, Master Dwarf!” the hobbit said when Bofur found him.  
“And you as well,” he replied, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”  
The two of them conversed in hushed tones, out of Bilbo’s earshot, but he could still see them. Not knowing what they could be talking about bothered him slightly, but he didn’t know why. Jealousy? Impossible, there’d be no reason to question Bofur. He decided to shrug it off, and didn’t mention it when Bofur joined him at the table.  
The two of them each had a hobbit-sized tankard of ale, as well as a plateful of all sorts of hobbit dishes. Though they had been seated conveniently close to an open keg, neither of them really wanted a repeat of the Green Dragon. Today was for fun and celebration of the week, especially as it had been early in the harvest season, today wasn’t for competition and drinking games. 

The party had began to wind down as the sky darkened and stars appeared. Bilbo felt a wave of sadness approach, as he had been used to hobbit parties followed by Gandalf’s fireworks.  
There would be no fireworks this night, and Bilbo decided he would make his way home.  
“No need to follow, stay here as long as you like,” he told Bofur as he began to leave, “I’m fairly tired, so I will see you in the morning.”  
Bofur smiled and nodded as he watched the hobbit walk up the hill, opting to stay at the tree for just a bit longer. When he returned to Bag End, Bilbo had been fast asleep.  
\---  
Waking up the next morning, Bilbo felt odd. It wasn’t the ale or the amount of food, it just felt as if something was missing. He walked out the door and looked around the house, acting like someone had come in and robbed the place.  
He hadn’t felt this was since the previous year after the dwarves began their adventure without him. Immediately, remembering the connection, he felt his stomach drop, he looked in the guest room, and it looked like no one had ever been there. His desperate searching around the house confirmed that Bofur had left.  
With the week’s events, he had the brief thought that the whole time he was here had been just a very long dream. Once that thought had cleared, he started looking for anything, a note, something to reassure him that he would be back. Just as he gave up looking, he heard a knock at the door. It was the groundskeeper who Bofur had been talking to the night before.  
“Hello Mr. Bilbo!”  
“Hello. Have you seen Bofur?”  
“He didn’t tell you he was leaving? I guess that makes sense, he gave me this for you.” the hobbit handed a letter to Bilbo, who took it perhaps a little to hastily, “Thank you” was all he said as he closed the round door.  
He tore open the letter and in a messy scrawl, it read,

“ _Bilbo,_

_Thank you for inviting me into your home, and introducing me to your friends and customs. I enjoyed my time there, but I think it’s time that I see my own family again._  
_I couldn’t bear to say goodbye, so I left early in the morning after giving this note to the groundskeeper of the Party Field. I don’t know if I’ll return to Erebor or the Blue Mountains, but I can imagine I’d stay there awhile._  
_In regards to what you told me yesterday, I could never say you’re indecisive or that you’d use any feelings to get over Thorin’s death, that’s not the type of hobbit you are._   
Perhaps we’ll meet again soon. 

_Bofur._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay, school then holidays. I also don't know if any of you guys read my Kiliel story or the notes, but I fractured my ankle, so I'm off work for a bit. School starts up again soon but I should be able to update more than once or twice a month.  
> On that note, hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think :)


	7. A Normal Hobbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's account of the weeks and months following Bofur leaving.  
> Bofur has a secret plan, and he needs whatever help he can get.

**The Shire – Bilbo’s POV**  
Bilbo Baggins was not the type of hobbit to weep over someone leaving their home. Even when that someone left without saying something the day after this little hobbit had realized his feelings. He was not the type of hobbit to over-think what had happened between the two in the past few days, and to over-conceptualize whether or not the letter was genuine.  
He was the type of hobbit to understand when his dwarvish friends wanted to be with their family. He trusted Bofur, and knew that if he wanted to leave he was free to do so, but he wouldn’t have left if Bilbo did anything to upset him. So to worry about that was unnecessary for our hobbit to do.  
Perhaps Bofur would write again, or maybe Bilbo should write to him. Send a letter to the Blue Mountains first, and see what happened. He sat at his desk with a blank piece of parchment in front of him, his quill freshly dipped in ink pressed onto it. A blot of ink began spreading on the page, He realized he didn’t know what to say, and even if he did, Bofur had just left, there was no sense in writing to someone who wouldn’t arrive at the destination for days at least.  
So he left it at that. He put the quill back into the inkwell and got up from his seat. He began pacing his study, trying to clear his mind from everything that had happened. His gaze shifted to the fireplace where the wooden statues stood, and he walked in their direction, considering, only for a moment, throwing them into the hearth. Instead he took them down and placed them in the chest with the rest of his discarded memories of Erebor and the quest.  
He decided just then that he was a Baggins of Bag-End, and no Baggins was ever going to be hung up and mopey over some dwarf, and now that his friend had gone, it was time to move on with his life. 

So why didn’t he feel any better in the coming days? He had done everything he had in the past before the quest. He ate his seven meals, he entertained guests, he frequented the market. He didn’t even bother to use the gold he retrieved from the troll caves. The dwarven books were gone from his shelves, the maps were hidden away, visibly there was no sign of him ever leaving The Shire. But that was the thing about grief and war, he could hide everything that reminded him of the journey, but he couldn’t fool his own heart, and he couldn’t forget the things he saw and tried desperately to repress.  
His mind for no reason at all brought him back to Ravenhill, just after warning Thorin of the trap. He looked over the frozen lake at the watch tower where the pale orc held the older of the two princes. Bilbo tried to snap out of it, he closed his eyes and still saw it, he tried to look away but it was still there. He remembered Azog killing Fili, as if he had to witness it again, some kind of endless nightmare that he could only restart. Then his mind brought him back to his semi-conscious state when he found Thorin. He had to watch the dwarf he loved die again in his arms.  
He couldn’t figure out why his mind would make him see such things, but then he still had never properly processed everything. He only hid his stress and grief, hobbits didn’t have the same thick skin that dwarves have. The feeling after a death of a loved one doesn’t just go away after the burial. But now he was faced with this alone, without Bofur, without Gandalf, no one but himself, but he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. He needed this time, no distractions of gardening, nor reading, nor living a hobbit life as normally as possible. His closure only came three months later. He wore a smile now, a genuine smile, for the first time in the weeks that he had been alone in his hobbit hole. He wiped the forming tears from his eyes, and sighed in relief.  
There was a sudden knock on the door, a light knock, not a knock of anyone but a hobbit. He practically skipped to the door, and turned the knob in the middle of it.  
“Hello Mister Bilbo! How are you doing?” the cheerful groundskeeper was at the door.  
“Good morning,” Bilbo replied, “I am quite well thank you, couldn’t be better! And yourself?”  
“You seem awfully cheerful today. I am doing just as well.” he smiled, “I’ve got something for you, Happy Birthday!” the groundskeeper held out an envelope, no different than the one he gave him when Bofur left.  
“‘Happy birthday’? But it’s not –” Bilbo remembered, he had spent so much time living a normal life, he didn’t even keep track of the days. It was now already September 22nd, his birthday. “Yes I suppose it is, thank you very much. Would you like to come in for tea?” he asked while taking the envelope.  
“Oh, I couldn’t. Afterall, much work to do for tonight. Everything is explained in the letter, I’d reckon.” the hobbit smiled, “Anyways, I’d best be off. We’ll be seeing you later.” he nodded then walked back down the hill toward the market.  
Bilbo was hesitant in opening the letter, he feared it was from a dwarf. He had just began to feel normal again after the journey, and he didn’t want everything to come back again.  
Of course, if anyone knows Bilbo, they’d know that curiosity would get the best of him eventually, so he opened the letter.

“ _Bilbo Baggins,_

 _Before you think I sent a letter to anyone else before you, just know I didn’t. This was written before I left, with the instructions to deliver only on the 22nd of September._  
_So, Happy Birthday! I’ve arranged something for you with the nice little hobbit at the Party Field, and you’ll be going. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it, but you should have a good time regardless._  
I hope you’re not too mad at me. I’ve enclosed something for you, –” just as he read that, Bilbo felt the small bump in the envelope. He shook it out onto his hand, and it was a small piece of wood with tiny carvings on it. Not unlike what the rest of the dwarves wore in their beards or braids. He didn’t quite understand the importance of it, he knew from Bofur that braids symbolize all manners of things, but the beads just seemed like decoration, he had no idea why he was given one.  
“ _– it’s a bead, but you have to promise not to put in on yourself. Everything will be explained soon enough, I promise. But for now, go get ready for your party, and have fun for all of us!_

 _Your Dwarf._ ”  
Bilbo had to read the signature again to make sure he read it right.  
“‘Your dwarf’?” he said out loud, “‘ **Your Dwarf** ’? Now that just isn’t fair. Who is he to say he’s my dwarf?”  
Bilbo sighed, now in frustration. He hastily put the bead in his pocket, where his finger brushed the cold metal he grew so used to. He pulled the ring out to look at and it calmed him down, though he didn’t think it should have. He thought back to the creature, Gollum, and wondered if getting it back would make him calm instead of trying to kill him. He quickly put the ring back, just in case he thought of wearing it. It made him feel strange when it was on, as if it were speaking to someone who wasn’t him.  
But he tossed those thoughts aside, and began getting ready for this supposed party.  
––––---  
**Ered Luin – Bofur’s POV**

He had finally arrived back at his family home in the mountain. It had been remodeled years prior to accomodate Bombur’s wife and their fourteen children. He opened the door, and was almost immediately greeted by two chubby red-haired dwarflings.  
“Uncle Bofur! You’re back!” they cheered in unison.  
They called out into the stone house, “ _Adâd_! Uncle Bofur is here!”  
Just then, Bombur walked out of the kitchen, ladle in hand. “Welcome back, Brother.” he said after scooping Bofur into a hug.  
“What’s all the yelling for?” said a raspy voice from the other room.  
“Come out here, Cousin, Bofur’s returned.”  
Bifur practically ran out of the room he was in to hug Bofur, but after a minute Bifur looked around for something, or someone.  
“He’s not here, Bifur.”  
“Gave you the cold shoulder, eh?” Bombur asked with an subtle I-told-you-so tone.  
“No, I left on me own accord.”  
His kin looked at him with clear confusion on their faces. Before they could say anything, Bombur’s wife joined them in the lobby, followed by five more dwarflings, who had just began to grow their beards.  
“Bofur, welcome home.”  
Bofur slightly twitched at the mention of home, though it went unnoticed.  
“It’s good to be back, lass.” He said that, but there was still a sad look in his eyes.  
This however did get noticed by Bombur, “Hungry? Why don’t we get you somethin’ to eat.”  
Bofur nodded and followed his younger brother to the kitchen. 

“Why’d you leave?” Bombur asked.  
Bofur sighed, his reason was justified, but his own selfishness wanted him to stay.  
“Well, I think Bilbo needed some time apart from constant reminders of the journey. I really didn’t want to leave, and I couldn’t even say g’bye. He uh… Well he told me that he had feelings for me, which made it even worse.”  
“He does?” Bombur asked, trying not to looks as surprised as his voice lead on, earning a look from Bofur. “Sorry, not that I’m surprised, just didn’t think he’d get over Thorin so easily, let alone tell you.”  
“Well that’s the thing. He’s not over Thorin.” Bofur looked down at the pork pie sitting in front of him. “Hobbits aren’t like us, brother. They don’t only love once, which is good for me, but they’re also more sensitive. They take longer to move on from things. The trip to Erebor was practically his first time out of The Shire, it’s hard for him to get over what we’ve been through.”  
“So ye just left ‘im?” Bombur asked loudly. “He’s hurtin’ and you left him.”  
“Bombur don’t do that, please.”  
“Sorry, lad, it just seems… not like you to leave someone when they’re feelin’ down.”  
“I know, but I do have a plan, believe it or not.”  
\---  
The following days, Bofur had resumed working in the mines, and spent one day a week helping Bifur sell toys at his market stall. From the start, Bofur was able to get back in the swing of things as if he had never left, and his fellow dwarves and him picked up where they left off. Through his time in the mines, and making toys with his cousin, Bofur started to mull over the final touches on his plan, there was a lot relying on this and he needed to be absolutely sure it was perfect. In the mines he had found a small emerald that he would keep for himself, the green was the same green of Bilbo’s door, he took it as a sign that everything would work out.  
The last part of what could be done in Ered Luin was making a trip to the throne room. He had talked to every dwarf who would be interested in taking part, that is to say, his kin and any other company member that remained here instead of Erebor. But there was still one dwarf who could help him.  
He made his way to the Great Hall, “Halt! What business have you here, miner?” one of the dwarvish guards asked.  
“I have arranged a meetin’ here. You could ask Her Majesty if you don’t believe me” Bofur replied simply.  
A third voice spoke up from inside the open doors, the guards bowed to the dwarf it came from, “Is that really the way to greet a member of the Company of Thorin, son of Thrain?” she asked, “Bofur, you wished to speak with me?”  
“Thank you, Lady Dís.” Bofur nodded respectfully and followed her into the throneroom.  
“What have you come to ask me?” Dís asked when she sat on the throne in the hall.  
“Well, it’s sort of a long story.” Bofur proceeded to tell Dís of the Shire and the Company’s journey, and finally lead up to what he had been planning for Bilbo.  
Dís nodded in contemplation, “The last time I saw my brother, he was leaving the meeting of our kin, heading to The Shire. In further letters he seemed very confused about how he felt for the hobbit that lived there, though I suppose toward the end, if what you say is true, Thorin cared for the lad.”  
Bofur nodded, but didn’t speak.  
“But now that he is gone, you claim to have feelings for the halfling, and you want me to help you?”  
Bofur cleared his throat, “Yes, m’lady. I do have feelings for Bilbo, and I never intended to act on them because Bilbo cared for Thorin as well. Though I’m sure Thorin would want Bilbo to be happy, and I-I think I could ensure that.”  
Dís had a small smile on her face, “Well then, Bofur, I will help you if I can. For Thorin.”  
––––----  
**The Shire, Bilbo’s POV**

As the months went on, Bilbo grew more and more relieved that he allowed himself to move on from the events at Ravenhill in a healthy manner. Instead of repressing his grief, he was able to express it, and it allowed him feel like his old self. He also didn’t let Bofur’s absence upset him, he kept the bead he was given with him, next to his gold ring, as a reminder that he could be back, but aside from that, he was okay. Part of him waited for the groundskeeper or even the postman to deliver another letter from Bofur, but when he didn’t receive one, he was okay.  
It didn’t upset him as much as it may have when he didn’t receive any letters from the dwarves, or from anyone out of The Shire, aside from when Yule came around. He received a letter expressing Elrond’s Yuletide wishes, and sent one back to him.  
In the New Year, he had decided to take a trip to Bree and stay there for a couple of nights, just for a change of scenery. He could have sworn he had seen some familiar faces, but brushed them off as nothing. And when he returned to The Shire, he had continued his life as A Normal Hobbit.  
He hardly went anywhere or did anything unexpected, as any decent Baggins would do. But when the next September had arrived, he heard a knock on the door, not a quick knock from a hobbit, not a heavy knock from a dwarf, not even a tap from the end of a wizard’s staff. When he opened the door, there stood a Rivendell elf.  
“May I help you?” Bilbo asked him, he thought he recognized him from the journey, though he could not remember a name.  
The elf handed him a piece of parchment that read,

_Dear Mr. Baggins,_

_It would bring me great honour if you spent your birthday with my kin and I in Rivendell. We have made all the necessary preparations for you, all you need is to pack._

_Elrond, Lord of Rivendell_

“I shall wait in the carriage with my Lord until you are ready.” the elf told him, and he walked to an elegant carriage outside of the gate. Bilbo did a double take, and looked at it in disbelief. 

“Why must everyone tell me last minute when they want me to go somewhere?” he sighed, then got together a bag of clothes, Sting (just in case), and his favourite walking stick before writing a quick note to place on the door.  
_I will be away for a bit. I am not dead, this house shall not go for auction. If anyone enters Bag End, they will answer to me._  
_That means you, too, Lobelia._  
_B.B._

He walked down the path and entered the carriage where he was met with Lord Elrond himself, “Apologies for the formality, Master Baggins, I hope it is of little inconvenience.” he told him calmly.  
Bilbo shook his head, glad to see his friend again, and they all made their way to Rivendell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know through kudos and comments.  
> Hope you didn't mind the change in perspective, I just figured it'd be the best way to say that Bofur isn't gone for good :)  
> Also really wanted Dís to be in this somewhere.  
> I also should say, this story is ending soon. I may only have 2 more chapters left for you guys, but I would like it to end on 10 rather than 9. I'm unsure at the moment. But, I love writing Hobbit things, so there will be more from this fandom!  
> Will update again soon!


	8. Rivendell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo arrives in Rivendell with Elrond where more than one surprise awaits him, including an unfamiliar face whose acquaintance is long overdue.

Bilbo felt at ease as soon as they entered Rivendell, just as he did the two times he visited prior to this. Elrond wouldn’t say anything about what was awaiting them the whole trip there, and Bilbo figured it best not to ask. He tried looking out of the carriage before they had stopped, but the other elf moved in time to prevent Bilbo from seeing anything. It was all a big mystery.   
It seemed like forever had passed between when they entered the Elven realm and when they made their final stop. Elrond and the other elf exited the carriage first, and when Bilbo joined them outside, there was an air of familiarity, just being in Rivendell reminded him of the quest, both his first time stopping at the Last Homely House, and his last time returning to The Shire. He breathed in, and smiled, then looked around at the unchanged landscape. It was cooler here than in The Shire, it was somewhat cool the last times he visited, but the autumn weather had surely set in.   
“Come, Master Hobbit, I’ll show you to your room,” Elrond offered.  
“I couldn’t ask the Lord of Rivendell to escort me,” Bilbo replied earnestly, but then he sighed when Elrond insisted, “Alright, alright.”   
Together, they made their way to the guest quarters, it was the same room Bilbo used when he first visited. It was large, too large for a hobbit, but it was well designed. There was a large bed, a wardrobe, a wash basin, a writing desk, a bookshelf chock-full of elvish books, and a balcony overlooking the landscape.   
“I will let you put your things away, meet me in the dining quarters when you’re done. I’d imagine you are quite hungry after the journey.” Elrond nodded and walked out of the room.  
Bilbo used this time to put his clothes away in the wardrobe, he then leaned Sting against an end table, and placed a journal he brought with him on the writing desk along with the envelope containing the bead from Bofur he had received almost a year prior next to some elegant elvish parchment. He slowly walked over to the bookshelf to peruse the different types of books there were, but finally, he left the room to join Elrond.   
However, when he arrived to the dining room, he was surprised to see that it wasn’t just Elrond and Rivendell elves with him.   
“Gandalf!” Bilbo cried out, receiving a deep laugh in return from the wizard.  
“Bilbo Baggins,” he replied as he always had.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Same as you, I suppose. Though it is not I who will have a birthday in a few days.”   
Bilbo grinned at his friend, “I’m glad that you have joined us as well.”  
“And not just me, I’d imagine.” Gandalf told him, earning a look of genuine confusion from the hobbit.  
Before he could ask, he saw more elves appear from the building. One with fiery red hair, and the other two pale blond. They were not of Rivendell, of course.   
Bilbo could almost cry with how happy he was to see more of his old friends, even if they were not always friendly.   
“We had sent the invitations to Mirkwood, and King Thranduil replied.” Elrond explained.  
Thranduil had nodded at the introduction, “Yes, and I thought it best for you to seek out Legolas and Tauriel to join me.”  
Bilbo was surprised to hear that the king had found the other two, though they had both left Mirkwood after the battle.   
Legolas had done what his father suggested, he went to find the Dunedain, he stayed with them for a few weeks, though when he arrived the one named Strider had gone on a journey of his own, so he had never been able to meet him.   
After the battle, Tauriel knew she could not remain in the forest, even if Thranduil was finally able to treat her with dignity after she said goodbye to Kili. Being on her own was a lot easier for her, she visited other elven realms from time to time, Mirkwood included, but she loved the journeys she took.   
“Well, I appreciate that you’re all here, as well.” Bilbo bowed slightly to the king, who held his chin high.   
“It is an honour to have been invited,” Legolas stepped in, noticing Thranduil’s lack of common courtesy.   
The six of them sat at Elrond’s table, which was much nicer than the tables set up for the Company, and the lack of dwarves meant the lack of a food fight, Bilbo noted to himself.   
After a long pause for dinner, Elrond said what happened to have been on Bilbo’s mind, “How nice it is to have guests for dinner, and to not have mashed potatoes hurled at the statues.” He smirked to Gandalf who hid a smile under his beard.   
“I was just remembering that,” Bilbo admitted, “In fact when Bofur visited me he taught the song they sang to some of my neighbours. Though it did not result in a food fight.”  
Gandalf chuckled, “Well one dwarf is usually more well-behaved than twelve. And besides, there’s less of an influence without the young princes–” he cut himself off when he realized it may strike a chord with some.   
Tauriel looked down, but there was a smile on her face.   
“It does not surprise me in the least that they would throw their food at one another,” Thranduil said calmly but with a degree of snarkiness, “Though I have to admit, I am grateful they did not make a mess out of my kingdom.”   
After a few scattered laughs, Elrond became slightly more serious, “If I may ask, King Thranduil, how have the spider nests in the forest been for the past few years?”  
“They come back no matter how often we clear the nest.”   
Tauriel and Legolas both nodded, though they no longer had to deal with the problem, they both knew no matter how often they cleared them, the spiders returned.  
When Elrond and Gandalf exchanged a look, Thranduil continued, “Perhaps this is some dark power, all I know is that I am tired of the patrols coming back with reports of new webs littering the Greenwood. They were gone for longer with my former Captain of the Guard in charge.”   
There was a small smile on her face from Thranduil’s praise, and Legolas nudged her arm.   
“Well it is no secret that it is a dark power,” Elrond started, “But Sauron was banished by the Lady Galadriel.”  
“Regardless, now isn’t the time for this discussion, this is a celebratory time!” Gandalf said, and the thoughts of Sauron were kept away.

When the post-dinner discussions had died down, they group had mostly parted ways. Thranduil, Elrond, and Gandalf had stayed there longer than Bilbo, Tauriel, and Legolas. The three of them had decided to roam together, as Bilbo knew the city, and the other two hadn’t had much of a reason to visit before. He considered it somewhat of a tour, then laughed at how a hobbit was giving two elves a tour of an Elven realm. 

As they walked along the stone paths they heard a voice behind them,  
“Master Hobbit,” it said, “Would you happen to be Bilbo Baggins?”  
He turned around to face who the voice belonged to, it was a dwarf, a royal one no doubt, though one he did not recognize. (If he had been closer, he would have known the piercing blue eyes right away.)  
“I am, and you are?” he asked the dwarf.  
“I am the Lady of Ered Luin. My name is Dís,” she paused, “Daughter of Thrain, son of Thror… and Sister to Thorin Oakenshield.”  
Bilbo couldn't believe it. Thorin didn't mention Dís often during their journey, unless he was talking to Kíli or Fíli.   
Tauriel looked as shocked as Bilbo was. Though when they stepped closer they couldn't doubt the likeness to the dwarves they each had thought about.   
Legolas decided to continue the walk alone and let the two of them meet with this dwarf.   
Dís looked up at Tauriel, “And who might you be?” there was a faint look of disdain on her face when she eyed the elf.  
“I am Tauriel, of the Woodland Realm.”   
The sour look on Dís’ face went away as Tauriel spoke.  
“You're the elf my youngest son mentioned in his last letter to me,” she smiled, “He was quite fond of you, dear.”   
A sad smile rested on Tauriel’s lips, “And I, him.”  
Bilbo smiled at the two of them.   
Dís looked back at him, “And I have heard my brother was quite attentive to you, Master Baggins.”  
“Just Bilbo is fine. But yes, I’d like to think so. I was fond of him, as well.”  
Her smile faded, “You’d like to think so? Did he not tell you himself?”  
“I’d imagine he was planning to, after the battle.” Bilbo’s voice settled on a sad tone as he spoke.   
“Leave it to my brother to put off something so important,” she scoffed then paused before she spoke again, “I wonder who Fíli would have found to his liking, if two of my kin would have bound themselves to non-dwarrows.” She smiled, while Bilbo and Tauriel shared the same look of melancholy at the would-have-beens.   
“If I may ask, Lady Dís, why have you come to Rivendell? The Blue Mountains are much closer to The Shire, how did you know this is where I’d be?” Bilbo decided to change the subject.  
“I suppose you could say a little bird told me to be here come mid-September.”   
Bilbo pondered the mystery surrounding her arrival, but then decided he had been in stranger situations, and it was best to leave it at that.   
“You have friends in Ered Luin, Bilbo. Perhaps you’ll see them again soon.” Dís told him with a smile, and that set him at ease.  
Tauriel began fidgeting with something she had taken out of her pouch at her side.   
“What’s that in your hand?” Dís asked her.  
Tauriel smiled, “A talisman,” she said softly.   
When Dís looked confused, Tauriel explained herself, “It’s funny you should ask. Kíli gave it to me. As a promise. He said he got it from you.”  
She held out the stone to show Dís, and the dwarf smiled as she took it to look at.  
“‘Return to me’, that’s what the runes mean. I gave it to him because he’s always been… Well, reckless.”  
Tauriel said the last word at the same time as Dís, earning her another quizzical look.  
“He told me once. But I did not know what the runes meant. Somehow it makes it sadder. I should have been there sooner, I could have–”   
Dís placed her hand on Tauriel’s shoulder, “Nothing could have prevented this.”  
Bilbo had felt he should no longer be part of this conversation, “If you’ll excuse me, I think I should head back to my room. Lady Dís, may we speak tomorrow morning?”   
“Of course, dear. Now, off to bed with you.”  
Bilbo nodded and turned around to walk back to the guest quarters. He walked there at a fairly leisurely pace, the stars had begun to appear and it was quiet in Rivendell. 

When he eventually did arrive back at his quarters, he noticed that the door was slightly ajar, he didn’t think anything of it at first, passed it off with a shrug and a simple “It must not have shut all the way.”  
But then he saw a coat on the coat tree in front of him that did not belong to him, nor did it belong to anyone in Rivendell. He would have thought it could belong to Lady Dís, however it was not nearly regal enough. He looked down where he saw a pair of boots next to the door, and slowly the pieces clicked together and he recognized both.  
A familiar hatted figure turned the corner into the entryway of Bilbo’s room, and looked at him with a grin.  
“Hello there, Master Baggins.” the dwarf said.  
“Bofur!” Bilbo almost lunged at him to hug him, almost with tears in his eyes, and was hesitant to let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided on 10 chapters for this. One more chapter and then an epilogue, so hopefully chapter 9 will be up soon!   
> Be prepared for many more characters next chapter :D
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think!


	9. A Birthday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo reunites with Bofur (and a lot of old friends) after a year, and they all celebrate Bilbo's birthday in Rivendell. Bilbo and Bofur also talk about some fairly important things, after not being able to for all that time.
> 
> (Also very fluffy + some angst maybe?  
> Warning: alcohol, Bilbo being an affectionate drunk)

“How could you just leave like that? And to have to find out through another hobbit. I’ve never been so insulted!” Bilbo had already begun to lecture Bofur on his absence, not even ten minutes after their reunion.  
“I’m sorry to have insulted you, but I told you in my letter, I couldn’t say goodbye.” Bofur was trying to calm Bilbo down, to very little avail.  
“Then why leave at all?” Bilbo didn’t want to yell at him, but after a year of hearing nothing, everything just flooded to the surface.  
“Well, I saw you at the party, and you seemed to like being with the other hobbits again, I just felt that my being there was hindering you. Even if I wasn’t there for that long.”  
Bilbo sighed, it was a good enough explanation, though slightly unreasonable. Bofur could never be a hinderance to him, he would much rather spend time with a dwarf than fellow hobbits.  
“Well you couldn’t have left at a worse time, if I’m being honest. I had just told you how I felt and you left, I just thought…”  
Bofur cut him off with an embrace before he could continue, “Bilbo, I told you already. You’re the One for me. I never meant for you to think that you’d said somethin’ wrong.”  
Bilbo allowed himself to melt into Bofur. He closed his eyes and simply breathed in the smell of earth that came off of him. The two of them stood there in each other’s arms, until Bilbo opened his eyes again.  
“Is that what all of that “Your Dwarf” business was about?” Bilbo asked with the annoyed tone coming back.  
Bofur just smirked, “Absolutely. That didn’t upset you, did it?”  
Bilbo’s face grew slightly red, “N-No! I just simply did not understand. One minute you leave, the next you’re calling yourself m-my dwarf. It’s all very confusing!”  
Bofur couldn’t help but laugh at the now flustered hobbit. The laughter soon died down into a warm smile. The warmness in Bofur’s eyes was matched by the candlelight in the otherwise darkened room.  
When Bilbo made eye contact with Bofur again, he looked at anything else in the room as quickly as he could. He moved away from in front of him and walked past the writing desk, then remembered the bead that lay in the envelope on that desk.  
“May I ask what the bead was about?” Bilbo asked Bofur, picking up the envelope but still not facing him.  
“Well, that was supposed to be a birthday present, to tell you the truth. But seein’ as how I got here ahead of schedule, and we’re both here now…” He moved closer to Bilbo, and was right behind him before Bilbo turned to face him. Realizing there was hardly any space between them, Bilbo took a step back, and Bofur took the envelope from his hands. He shook the bead out onto his hand.  
“Did you make that?” Bilbo asked, only now getting a better look at the bead after the whole time of him having it.  
“Sort of. I had a jeweller make it into a functioning bead. I carved it and engraved it and all.”  
“What’s it for?” Bilbo repeated his question, and still hadn’t taken his eyes off of it.  
Bofur chuckled, “Y’see… Bilbo, I could tell you time and time again that you’re the One. The only One for me, and I swear every time I say it, it’s nothin’ but the truth. And I’ve felt this way for quite a while now. But what kind of Dwarf am I if I don’t ‘seal the deal’ I suppose you could say. So I’m askin’ your permission to court you. If you’ll let me, I’ll put a braid in your hair, and clasp this bead onto it, of course, if you choose not to then that’s fine too, but should we begin courtin’, the bead would stay there until either we decide to wed, or if we don’t want to continue a relationship. Of course, I want it to be the former but that’s not for a while, and all. I’m ramblin’ now, I’m sorry, I-I just–”  
“Bofur,” Bilbo said with a smile, “I’d love to court you.”  
Bofur’s face lit up even more than usual (if that’s even possible), and he hugged Bilbo once more.  
“Oh, thank you, Bilbo!” he beamed, then pulled out another bead from his pocket, “This one’s for you to put in my hair, I mean technically you’re probably s’pposed to make your own, but that can be saved for even more important ones… Th-This one’s still important! But I already made them and all...”  
Bilbo chuckled as he took the bead from him, the engravings were intricate. There was a small building that somewhat resembled Bag End, as well as some dwarvish runes. Bilbo recognized them as “love” and “court” from his previous studying.  
“M-May I braid your hair now?” Bofur asked him, with a cautious tone.  
“Yes, yes of course,” Bilbo smiled, and Bofur stepped closer to him. He decided on a section just in front of Bilbo’s left ear to set the braid, and he delicately began weaving through the hair. Finally he took the bead and clasped it onto the end, then smiled. As he pulled his hand back, he gently caressed Bilbo’s cheek, cause a slight blush to return to the hobbit’s face.  
“I’m afraid I haven’t had much experience with braiding, but I’ll do my best.” Bilbo admitted to Bofur as he began to undo one of his pigtails.  
“It’ll be lovely no matter what,” he assured, and Bilbo began forming a small braid on Bofur’s left side as well. He finished it, and as he expected, it was slightly lopsided, but he attached the bead to it anyway.  
The two of them stood and smiled at each other, now that the starting traditions had been carried out.  
Bofur reached out again, and his hand rested on Bilbo’s jaw. The callouses on his hand contrasted perfectly to the smoothness of Bilbo’s face, and he tilted his head up.  
Bilbo kept eye contact with him as he slightly bit his lip out of nervousness. He wanted to kiss him, though a part of him was also quite afraid they would have to share a similar head smash as Dwalin and Balin had when Bilbo first met them. He still knew very little about Dwarvish culture, to say the least.  
Bofur had darted his tongue out to wet his lips. He hesitated, he did want to close the distance between them, but wasn’t sure what Bilbo would think, and he was too shy to ask. The two held this pose until Bofur saw Bilbo quickly look at his lips, then look back up to make eye contact. When that had happened, Bofur closed the distance.  
Bilbo was surprised by the kiss, even though it was expected. He felt the scratchiness of Bofur’s beard against his chin, and his mustache had tickled his face, but after a year of wondering what would happen, he had finally known. Bilbo’s blush had deepened with the kiss, and Bofur pulled him even closer, which had seemed impossible until he did.  
Eventually, Bilbo backed away from him, not knowing what to say, and Bofur grinned.  
“A-Are you staying in Rivendell?” Bilbo managed to say.  
“Of course! I wouldn’t have invited everyone here if I wasn’t stayin’.” Bofur shrugged.  
“You invited everyone? Even King Thranduil? Lord Elrond said he invited them.” Bilbo told him.  
“I wanted it to be a surprise that I was here,” he smiled again.  
“Well it was certainly a s-surprise.” Bilbo lightly touched his lips, then spoke again, “Where are you staying?”  
Bofur looked at him for a second, then outstretched his arms to gesture to the room, “Here, with you. If that’s alright, of course.”  
“Oh! Yes, I suppose that’ll do.” the redness returned to Bilbo’s face. 

When the two had readied themselves for bed (in separate dressing rooms of course, anything else would be improper to Bilbo), Bofur flopped onto the soft elvish bed and pulled the blankets over him. After a bit of hesitation, Bilbo joined him, lying as far away as he possibly could have and tucked himself in.  
That is until Bofur smirked and said, “Oh no you don’t,” and pulled him closer with both arms wrapped around him. Bofur didn’t let go of Bilbo, but instead whispered in his ear, “I haven’t seen you for over a year, so don’t think I’m letting you go now.”  
Bilbo smiled, though when he felt Bofur’s breath against his ear, chills ran down his spine. He shuffled around in Bofur’s grip until he was facing him, now lying chest-to-chest, he softly kissed Bofur on the nose before burying his face in his chest, “I’d hoped you wouldn’t.”  
\---  
Bilbo was woken up by the morning sun streaming in through the door leading to the balcony, he smiled as he opened his eyes to see Bofur next to him. He got up quietly, as to not wake the dwarf, and quickly got dressed to meet Dís. 

She was waiting for him where the two had met the previous night, and smiled when she saw him.  
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” Bilbo said to her when he was closer.  
“Not at all, dear,” her eyes immediately darted to the new addition to Bilbo’s hair, “So he asked you, eh?”  
“You knew?”  
“Aye. Everyone in Ered Luin knew, Bilbo. It wasn’t a secret how much he mooned over you.” she laughed, and Bilbo grinned as well.  
“He invited me here, as you’ve likely guessed. Told me that he’d make you happy, something that Thorin would have wanted.” she told him, slightly solemnly.  
Bilbo nodded, “I see… Did you make it to Erebor to visit the uh… the t-tombs?”  
“Not yet. I was speaking to Tauriel late last night, we decided to go together.”  
Bilbo smiled again, glad to see that Tauriel and her were getting along well. He had never seen what Tauriel was like with Kíli, but they clearly loved each other a lot for the short time of knowing one another.  
“What were they like?” Bilbo asked her, as the two had found a bench to sit on.  
“Who? Kíli and Fíli? Or Thorin?”  
“All of them. I wish I could have gotten to know them all better on the journey.”  
Dís smiled, and looked out over Rivendell.  
“Thorin wasn’t much different than he was when you knew him. Though he wasn’t always as serious. We used to fight a lot, myself, Thorin, and our brother Frerin. But siblings always do, you see. When our grandfather had been struck with Dragon Sickness, it was hard to watch him. Hard to be with him, and I know Thorin and Frerin thought so too.  
“I had left Erebor before the dragon attacked, went to live in Ered Luin with Víli, my husband. We offered our home to my family, and they stayed there, until the Battle of Azanulbizar. I trust you heard what happened.”  
Bilbo nodded at her assumption, so she continued.  
“Frerin was far too young to die, but Azog… He was ruthless. I wish I had been there with Thorin, he shouldn’t have been alone to witness that. I was lucky he was able to return to me. Though he had left Ered Luin to look for more work, and to find our father. We communicated through raven, of course, and I told him when Fíli was born, and then Kíli, but he hadn’t returned very often.  
“Of course, if you know Fíli and Kíli, you know what they were like as children. Kíli was always finding trouble, though often getting himself hurt, and Fíli was always there for him, to help him, but of course to scold him as well. The two were inseparable. When it came to Thorin going on the quest to reclaim Erebor, my boys were practically gearing up to join him right away, and I couldn’t allow them to sit back. Though part of me wishes I had,”  
Dís looked down at her lap, and Bilbo placed a hand on top of hers, when she looked at him, he smiled sadly and repeated what she had told Tauriel.  
“Nothing could have prevented this.”  
She smiled at him in thanks, and he nodded back.  
Bofur, finally awake, walked up behind them, “More of our guests have arrived,” he told them with a grin.

The hobbit and the two dwarfs walked to the main entrance to the city where several carriages had appeared.  
Out of one stepped Bard, the Bowman from Dale, and his children, Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda.  
Bilbo smiled as they approached them, “How nice to see you four again!” He looked each of them in the eye, then stopped at Tilda who now stood slightly taller than Bofur, “Look at you! You’re practically a giant!” she giggled at his comment.  
He looked over to Dís, then back to Bard. “May I introduce Lady Dís of Ered Luin, Dís, this is Bard of Dale, and his family.” the dwarf and the family of Men had bowed to each other, before Dís eyed Bard and said, “So you’re the one to take down Smaug.”  
Bard nodded, “Aye. I suppose you’re the sister of Thorin?”  
Dís nodded as well, “Aye,” she repeated.  
“You’re Kíli and Fíli’s mum?” the youngest of Bard’s children asked.  
“Indeed I am,” Dís said, having to look up at her, “You knew them?”  
“Kíli got hurt, so they came to us for help,” Tilda explained.  
“They also helped us when our home was raided by orcs,” Sigrid chimed in.  
“Well I appreciate you looking after him,” the dwarf told them with a sincere expression.

Out of the other carriages, Bilbo noticed, were the ten other dwarves he had journeyed with. His smile grew larger, and he looked to Bofur who was smiling back, “All for you, lad.”  
The sight of almost everyone Bilbo had met on the journey to take Erebor brought tears to Bilbo’s eyes, Bofur put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a half-hug.  
Bombur and Bifur walked over to the two of them. Bifur laughed his usual maniacal laugh when he saw the beads in their hair, and Bombur wrapped his arms around them.  
“Welcome to the family, Bilbo,” he cheered. 

The elves and Gandalf had now joined them. Lindir stood by Elrond and sighed when he saw the dwarves of Erebor, remembering a disturbing image of them in the fountain. Elrond silently chuckled, and walked over to the group to greet them. Thranduil had walked over to Bard, Dís then took it upon herself to leave them, and the two exchanged greetings.  
She had ventured over to speak with Balin, who clearly wasn’t expecting her to be there as she was soon almost tackled by him and Dwalin. Bilbo looked around at everyone talking to one another, being civil with each other, and smiled once more.  
The rest of the dwarves of Erebor crowded around Bilbo now, after noticing the bead in his hair, several of them tossed bags of coins to each other.  
“You dwarves like betting on everything I do, don’t you?”  
“Well it’s an easy way to make some extra gold, ‘specially now,” Gloin explained.  
Bofur chuckled, “I’m actually surprised some of you bet against it.” He looked over at Nori, Dori, and Ori who had been the only ones who didn’t get any coins out of it, aside from Bifur and Bombur who weren’t allowed to place a bet.

Once everyone had more or less exchanged pleasantries, another Rivendell elf had told them that their lunch was to be served shortly.  
Elrond looked over the crowd, then his eyes rested on the dwarves, “It would be preferred if this didn’t turn into a food fight,” he told them with a smirk.  
Ori of all dwarves had stepped forward to protest, but Balin stopped him, “Of course it won’t,” he assured him.  
\---  
The next day was the 22nd of September, which meant the day they had all joined together to celebrate, and celebrations were not in short supply. Bofur was in charge of everything, as it had been what he was planning for the past year, and it needed to be perfect. Bilbo was glad to see everyone coming together like this, especially because it was on his account. He loved the idea of having a birthday party that was spent with friends, as opposed to another birthday spent with family, including those who had been after his house. Everyone had brought something to add to the feast. Thranduil had brought with him the finest wines from the Mirkwood cellars, the dwarves brought all kinds of meats and ales, and with the provided materials, Bard and his children all helped to make a rather large cake.  
Bilbo wasn’t allowed to help out with any of it, though he tried his best to. Every time he thought he could reach something to decorate, his hands got slapped away. Most entrances had guards by it, to make sure he couldn’t sneak his way in. For once since Bilbo had found his mysterious ring, he didn’t use it to sneak somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be, as he had done on the journey.  
The afternoon faded away into the evening with Bilbo writing in his journal, and soon enough, Elrond had come to get the hobbit. Bilbo donned the nicest jacket he brought with him and the two walked to the pavilion where the festivities would be.  
It was decorated with banners and streamers and lights. Music was played, and not the music that Nori had described as funeral music, it was fun and lighthearted, something to dance to. Gandalf had an entire fireworks display planned, and the tables were covered in food. No one looked sad or troubled, everyone was happy to be here.  
Bofur walked over to him to grab his arm, “Happy birthday, love,” he said with a grin.  
“It’s perfect. You planned all of this?” Bilbo asked him, with some degree of uncertainty.  
“Do you doubt me?” Bofur laughed, “I’ve had a year to get everythin’ set up, of course it’s going to be great.”  
“Glad to see you’re humble about it.” Bilbo told him sarcastically.  
Bofur rolled his eyes and laughed, and continued leading him around, headed toward the dinner tables A few of the dwarves began tossing food amongst themselves, but Elrond took precautions, having the tables set away from anything that could get damaged or hard to clean. Bilbo laughed as he watched food whiz past him, and land on a nearby plate, or in someone’s mouth. By this point he had a fair amount to drink, and he was soon whisked away by Bofur to dance, soon more dwarves and elves began cutting in to have a turn with them. Both Bofur and Bilbo were glad this had been a success, and that everyone was enjoying themselves. 

It was late in the night when the last of Gandalf’s fireworks had exploded and rained down sparks, Bofur had suggested that Bilbo make a speech, and several others egged him on.  
“Alright, alright.” Bilbo agreed, as he walked up to a table with a glass of Mirkwood wine in hand. He stood on the table and cleared his throat, soon all eyes were on him.  
“For some reason you all want me to make a speech, so here I go, I suppose. I’m glad to see so many of you here today, and for the past couple of days. To know that Dwarves, Elves, Wizards, and Men have all joined together to see me is something that no Baggins deserves. I’m glad to have met all of you, and to have shared journeys with most of you. If a certain wizard hadn’t come by to see me one morning, I wouldn’t have known any of you, so Gandalf, thank you.” Gandalf chuckled at his acknowledgement and blew smoke from out of his pipe.  
“For the Dwarves who have come here, to spend more than one day in Elvish lands, I could not be more grateful. One dwarf in particular who has both set this up, and asked to court me, I am so thankful to have you in my life, I really am. The first time I was in Rivendell, we had left early and were stuck in the middle of a Stone Giant battle. I nearly fell of the edge of the mountain but Bofur and Thorin pulled me back up. Of course, Thorin had some choice words for me, and I almost left. I am glad I didn’t.” Bofur looked down, smiling, and Dís nodded, as if it were on Thorin’s behalf.  
“Bard, you and your family coming here from Dale though you owe no allegiance to me, I couldn’t appreciate it more. And King Thranduil, you didn’t have to be here and yet you are, and you brought Legolas and Tauriel.” Bilbo smiled to each of them individually, then turned to the Lord of Rivendell.  
“Lastly, to Elrond and the rest of those who live in Rivendell. Thank you for hosting us all. You have been more than accommodating, and I couldn’t ask for a better setting for this birthday. It truly is beautiful here, and I hope to visit again in the future. Thank you all for coming!”  
He stepped down from the table, and walked over to Bofur.  
“Did you have that written down?” He joked.  
“I come up with the best speeches when I’ve been drinking.” Bilbo informed him with false confidence.  
“Good thing you said the right thing this time. I seem to remember a pretty drunk hobbit stumbling down the road and muttering nonsense.” Bofur teased him.  
“Oh, shush.” Bilbo said, laughing at the memory, then yawned and leaned against him.  
“Might be time for you to be gettin’ to bed.” Bofur chuckled.  
“Perhaps. I suppose I’ll go and say my goodnights.”

Bilbo did just that and then Bofur walked him back to the room they were now sharing. Bofur helped him lay down onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over him. He pressed a gentle kiss onto his forehead, then Bilbo had suddenly wrapped his arms around Bofur’s neck, pulling him down, and causing him to fall down on Bilbo’s chest, knocking the air out of both of them.  
“What are you doing?” Bofur asked with a winded laugh, a faint blush had formed on his cheeks..  
“You’re staying here, right?” Bilbo answered with a question of his own.  
“Well, maybe not right here, but I’ll be stayin’ with you.” He told him with a sweet smile.  
Bilbo’s face had become more red than it had been with the alcohol, “Well you could stay there… If you wanted.”  
Bofur stayed quiet for a second, with his mouth slightly open, but then it turned into a smirk. He repositioned himself so that his legs were on the bed, kneeling on either side of Bilbo’s, and his elbows planted on the bed holding himself up. Just inches away from Bilbo’s face, the blush returns to his face, he obviously wasn’t expecting this to happen, and it was clear from Bilbo’s expression that he wasn’t either.  
When Bofur read the unexpectedness on the hobbit’s face, he regretted his actions, though when he attempted to move away, Bilbo put a hand on his chest.  
“Please stay there, i-if you want. I am okay with this, if you are.”  
A toothy grin appeared on Bofur’s face, and the two of them closed the distance between them. The kiss was more passionate than their first one, there was more of a sense of urgency, though neither of them fully knew why. Bilbo opened his mouth slightly, and his tongue had gently brushed against Bofur’s lower lip. Bofur smiled into the kiss, and his own tongue met Bilbo’s. He broke away, and moved his mouth to kiss Bilbo’s jawline and then his neck. Bilbo laughed lightly when the dwarf’s facial hair came into contact with his neck. Bofur backed away and moved to lean on his hands instead of his elbows. He smiled at Bilbo, then moved so he was laying on his side on the bed. Bilbo moved over to lay close to him, and Bofur draped an arm over him.  
“Bofur,” Bilbo began, he looked up and their eyes met, “this question may sound daft, but are you coming back with me to Bag End? Or are you staying in Ered Luin? I-I mean if you don’t want to live in The Shire, I could go to the mountain with you.”  
Bofur smiled once again and kissed Bilbo’s temple, “I don’t care where I am, as long as I’m with you. I’m fairly fond of The Shire, though.”  
Bilbo smiled and closed his eyes, “I am too.”  
Bofur looked at him with the most sincere smile on his face, he brushed through Bilbo’s hair with his hand until eventually they had both fallen asleep with their arms wrapped around each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was the last "actual" chapter, but there is another one coming, if that makes sense. It's sort of an epilogue coming up.  
> I also am very glad this chapter was as long as it was, because Bilbo and Bofur finally got their fluff and love, but I'm also hella nervous about this chapter too :P
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think!


	10. Epilogue: Future Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final part of this story.  
> Bilbo tells Bofur about the ring, and the two decide to make plans for not only their future, but for the future of Middle Earth.

The Hobbit and the Dwarf had been wed the following May. It was Bofur’s idea to make the final step in their Courtship on the third anniversary of their meeting, and Bilbo realized he had been even more sensitive than he initially thought. The Company and Dis had been there to wish them well in their lives together, and of course Gandalf had officiated. Bilbo had even finally been able to meet Bombur’s children, and even Gloin’s boy, Gimli.  
The wooden beads the two had exchanged had been replaced by more exquisite ones after they remade the braids. They were both made of gold from Ered Luin, the one Bofur made had been adorned with the small emerald that reminded him of the door to Bag End that he had found in the mines. Bilbo had his made for him, and it didn’t have any jewels with it, but instead it was engraved with intricate little drawings. 

The evening of their wedding, the two sat in the study in Bag End in front of the fire, with a glass of wine in hand. Since Bofur’s return to The Shire, another armchair had been added just for him. Bag End was quiet, save for the rest of the dwarves snoring away from their respective rooms.  
Bofur smiled at the hobbit and raised his glass, “Here’s to the rest of our lives, eh?” Bilbo returned the smile and nodded, though he seemed distracted, so Bofur spoke again, “You alright, love?”  
Bilbo’s hand was in the pocket of his waistcoat, and Bofur noticed. “Yes, yes, I’m fine it’s just…” Bilbo sighed, “I need to tell you this, I’ve kept it from anyone for too long, and now that we’re married, I figure I should tell you.” He pulled the ring out from his pocket, and held it out in his palm for Bofur to see, though when Bofur attempted to reach his hand out, Bilbo snatched his own hand away.  
“What is that?” Bofur asked, with his eyes lingering on Bilbo’s closed hand. Dwarves had generally been too thick-skulled and stubborn to be as taken by this ring’s magic as men or hobbits were, but he knew there was something about it.  
“I… I found it in the Goblin Tunnels, all those years ago. It’s how I got out of there, how I got the keys to the Mirkwood prison… How I got away from Smaug. It’s clearly magic, and it has a hold over me, and it’s frightening. It is really frightening.” Bilbo told him, not daring to open his hand again.  
“Magic rings are no small trinket. Does Gandalf know about it?”  
“I should expect he does. I-I told him I lost it at Ravenhill. The creature I… won it from seemed so dependent on this, he almost killed me for it. I don’t want to become that way, but I fear I may. Bofur, I should have told you sooner, that way you might have been free from this sort of b–”  
Bofur had quickly gotten up from his seat, and now was kneeling in front of Bilbo, with both of his hands surrounding the hobbits’, “Don’t you say ‘burden’. I love you, Bilbo, no matter what baggage you have. We could talk to Gandalf in the morning, tell him about it, what do you say?” Bilbo nodded at his suggestion, and smiled at him. Bofur grinned, “Good. now let’s get some sleep, my love.”  
The two retired to their now-shared bedroom, while Gandalf had sat in the foyer unseen, but overhearing their conversation.  
\---  
In the early afternoon, the Dwarves has all left the Shire, though the Wizard remained. The three of them had sat together to have a cup of tea in the sitting room, when Bilbo cleared his throat.  
“Gandalf, I’m afraid I wasn’t honest with you about that magic ring I found.”  
Gandalf looked over at him with a quizzical look on his face, “What ever do you mean?” he asked, trying to sound as oblivious as he could.  
Bilbo sighed, knowing he knew exactly what he meant, “I didn’t lose that old ring. But now I feel its power is growing in a way. It frightens me.”  
“Yes… The ring you carry is powerful. The best way to be free from it is for it to be destroyed, though I will have to do research. I doubt it is the one I fear, however.”  
“What ring is that?” Bofur asked him, holding onto Bilbo’s hand to support him.  
“There’s no sense in scaring you, it is likely just some magic ring someone was unlucky enough to lose.”  
“Then why must it be destroyed?” Bilbo asked, suddenly feeling defensive for it.  
“If it is not, it may warp your mind. These cannot be taken lightly.”  
Bilbo realized that in these years of keeping the ring, he had been able to see things that he wouldn’t be able to without it. He had seen Thorin for the first time after he died, and he had been able to talk to him every now and again, just to catch up. Of course the former King was happy for Bilbo in his new life, and his lifelong partner, but Bilbo was happy to talk to him. The thought of not being able to again worried him, but he knew that he should have just left him alone, and maybe destroying the ring may have been a better idea.  
Bofur and Bilbo both shrugged at each other. Gandalf knew he would have to keep an ear out for any rumours, but he did mean it when he said it was best not to worry them. He set out on his way later that afternoon, and Bilbo and Bofur were about to face their lives together.  
\---  
In the coming years, Bilbo and Bofur had made a very happy life. The hearth was always warm, and the song and drink were plenty. Every hobbit in Hobbiton had taken their time to get used to their marriage, but it was clear that they had all loved Bofur, though he was still unable to make Lobelia Sackville-Baggins laugh. They often went on small journeys together, usually to Ered Luin to visit Bofur’s family and Lady Dis.  
Balin, Oin, and Ori had all decided to pay them a visit in the Shire before they went to finally reclaim Moria for the dwarves, where Balin would become the Lord. The couple wished them luck, and sent them on their way with full bellies.  
Whenever Bilbo had moments of weakness or anger because of the magic he kept in his pocket, Bofur would always help him through with a song and a whiskery kiss to his forehead. He never blamed Bilbo, and knew that this ring was nothing but trouble. If Gandalf wanted it destroyed, it may have had to be. They had still been waiting to find out the result of Gandalf’s research, though word had yet to come. 

Eventually, when their hair had begun to grey, and more wrinkles appeared on Bofur’s face, Bilbo’s cousin Drogo and his wife Primula had their first son, Frodo.  
The Dwarf and Hobbit couple had grown attached to the young hobbit immediately. Bofur made the finest toys for him, and as he got older they told him their best stories.  
When Frodo had been rifling through Bilbo’s belongings at only five years old, he came across the ring in a waistcoat Bilbo had set aside to put on later.  
“Uncle Bilbo? What’s this?” he asked, holding up the ring to him.  
Bilbo saw it and snatched it from him, “It’s mine!” he growled, far more aggressively than necessary. This of course caused the young hobbit to start crying, and Bilbo backed away, covering his mouth with his own eyes watering. Bofur had heard the commotion, and scooped Frodo up to comfort him, exchanging worried looks with Bilbo.

It was then that the two had decided that they needed to make the journey. They sent a letter to Gandalf, telling him what needed to be done, and asking for his assistance. The next letters they sent were to Ered Luin and Erebor, telling them they may have another quest, and that there was no obligation to join. All they needed to do was to wait for correspondence, before making the plans necessary for what would end up being a quest to save the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for reading this story! Your comments and kudos have been a huge help to me, and I'm glad you were all with me on this journey.  
> I have decided to write a sequel to this story, after the comment suggestion on the last chapter, but I don't know when that will be out, but hopefully you guys will enjoy that as well!
> 
> Many many thanks to my friend BadWolfandTimelords for letting me bounce so many ideas off of her, and also thanks to TheGlassFloor for commenting so often on this story! :)  
> Go read their fics as well, because they're awesome!!


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